The Fallen
by LadySephiria
Summary: Isabelle Valentine never expected to be in District 13. In order to be a part of the Rebellion, she has to get along with people around her, even the girl whose arrow killed her best friend. But opening up has never been easy for her and having a notorious reputation as a D2 Victor doesn't help either. It really isn't the time to be falling for Gale Hawthorne. GalexOC
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

"Promise me. Promise me that you'll come back." He looked at me, really looked at me. His blue eyes softened for a second as he met my eyes then they took on the stony determination that I knew so well.

"I promise," he said.

I nodded. My arms were crossed stiffly on my chest as if my body were trying to comfort itself, trying to keep me together. I couldn't cry in front of him. I refused to. He had wanted this. He was the one who volunteered. I looked at the ground unable to match his gaze, held myself tighter, and bit my lip. I welcomed the distance between us. He didn't move to comfort me.

At that time, we had told ourselves the same thing, that it wasn't goodbye.

Now he was dying, being eaten alive by Capitol mutts, and all I could do was watch from a screen miles away. No amount of our training prepared us for this moment. None of it could save either of us right now.

Someone told me to close my eyes, but I didn't. I couldn't. I watched as the District Twelve girl raised her bow, as she aimed, and as the arrow left her hands. I heard the cannon go off. I pictured the light leaving his eyes, a brilliant blue going dull. When the winners were announced, I still hadn't turned away from the screen. But I hadn't been watching either. All I could think about was that he had lost the Games and that I had lost him.


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up to a bright light.

I blink several times before I am able to see again and when I do, I am staring up at a white ceiling.

It is so different from my dark cell in the Capitol that I shoot up to a sitting position. My head swirls from the action and I have to pause to let it clear. Once it does, I take a good look of the room I am in.

It is clean and mostly white. It looks to be a hospital room.

I am sitting in a somewhat comfy bed with wires and IVs attached to my arms. A machine takes note of my heart rate.

Where am I? How did I get here?

I hear a faint murmur of noise outside the closed door.

Suddenly, my machine beeps louder. My pulse has gone up at the realization that maybe I am still in the Capitol. Last, I was being tortured. Maybe Snow had gone too far and had sent me to the hospital so I would not die and he could continue interrogating me.

Maybe he would enter through that door any moment with guards and take me back to my cell. Or back to the room with the metallic smell of blood and electric chairs.

The next moment, I am ripping the wires from my arms and stumbling to the cabinets and drawers, looking for any tool I can use as a weapon.

I have just wrapped my fingers around a metal scalpel when I hear a distinct noise.

Someone is right outside the door.

I grip the cold object tightly in my hands.

I was not going to be taken back without a fight.

When a man dressed in a plain grey uniform steps into the room, he is surprised to see the mess I had made while searching for the scalpel.

He must be more surprised when I jump out from the side, tackling him to the ground.

I bring the scalpel down, aiming for his eye, but he puts both his hands up to stop me. He is strong and I am unusually weak, so even though I apply as much as my body weight as I can into forcing it down, the metal doesn't budge. It is still many inches away from his face.

"Woah."

I look up and am startled to see Haymitch Abernathy.

I am so surprised that I lessen my weight on the scalpel.

Suddenly, I am on my back and my arms are being pinned to the ground. The soldier I had tackled has reversed our positions. Now he is on top of me, applying his body weight so I can't move.

"Haymitch," the man says, sounding angry. "You ass."

"I didn't know she'd have a weapon," Haymitch replies simply.

"But you knew she was going to do something. That's why you had me go first."

I glare at the ceiling.

"What the hell is going on," I ask Haymitch, still glaring.

"You've been out for the past week, ever since we had a rescue mission at the Capitol and Hawthorne here, found you. We were told your vital signs were up and were just stopping by to check up on you when you decided to repay him by attempting to stab him in the eye."

I take my first good look at Hawthorne, the soldier, who is still hovering over me. He is a man, a strong, young one. He has dark hair and grey eyes that seem to be cautiously accessing me too. And then I recognize him.

It's Gale Hawthorne, cousin of Katniss Everdeen. And he is on top of me.


	3. Chapter 3

When tributes are in the Games, their family and friends are interviewed and shown on TV. That's how I recognize Gale Hawthorne. I remember seeing his face on the screen, thinking that we had an unwanted connection created by the Capitol. Both of us were interviewed for having a loved one in the arena. Both of us had someone important to us that we wanted to come home. But while he wanted Katniss alive, I had wanted her dead because it was one step closer to my person living. And while Gale's special person came home, mine did not. He had died in the Arena right before the tributes from Gale's district were crowned winners.

So you have to understand my displeasure of having Hawthorne practically straddling me.

"Would you like to get off me now," I say as coldly as possible.

Gale looks startled by my rudeness. And yes, I know I'm being rude. I want him as far away from me as possible.

As he gets up on his feet, I make a remark just to get under his skin. "Or were you enjoying yourself?"

I respond to his glare with an unconcerned look.

"Is that any way to thank him for saving you and bringing you here?"

"And where is here exactly," I ask, purposely ignoring the rest of what Haymitch has said. I should be grateful for Gale. He had saved me. But there was no way I was going to admit it and be making friends with him.

I seem to be succeeding at making Gale dislike me because I can see his glaring at me out the corner of my eye.

Good.

"District Thirteen," Haymitch says.

Not good.

"District Thirteen," I repeat.

Both men are quiet, studying my reaction.

"Where the rebellion is," I finally say.

The looks they give me prove that I have spoken correctly.

"So you know what's happening," Haymitch states calmly. He's looking for something, I realize. He wants to know if bringing me here and saving me was the right thing to do.

"Snow," I say. I want to wrap my arms around myself when I think of the past month I have had and the things that man has ordered. I remind myself that I am in District Thirteen, far away from the Capitol, and resist the urge, aware of the two men looking at me. "He asked a lot of questions about all of it," I finish.

Haymitch nods. He doesn't ask me to elaborate.

Both men are quiet. I am aware of the bruises on my legs, the healing cuts on my arms, and how pale my skin is, especially in the hospital gown I am wearing. I must look very fragile to Gale who is still studying me. I look up at him blankly. His grey eyes are still hard but they aren't as harsh.

I have to change that. I can't stand for him to pity me.

"So I really have Katniss Everdeen to thank for saving me," I comment.

As expected, Gale is cautious again because of the tone of my voice when I say Katniss' name. "What do you have against Katniss," he questions.

I ignore him. Instead I try getting up from the floor. I don't like how much taller he is than I am when I sit on the ground.

I try not to look as weak as I feel when I struggle to stand, but know that I fail when a hand yanks me up.

I tear my arm away from Gale immediately and slowly walk to the bed, without looking at either men in the room. I don't need to see their expressions to know that I am not doing a great job of looking strong.

When I am finally seated in the bed and under the covers, Haymitch speaks, "Maybe you should report to Coin, Hawthorne."

By the look Gale gives the oddly sober Victor, he doesn't think its safe to leave anyone in a room with me alone.

I almost smile. Maybe I haven't failed completely at scaring him.

"Let me try talking to her," Haymitch states when Gale doesn't move.

The two of them have a silent conversation as they stare at each other. Gale is the first to decide standing there is the waste of his time. He gives me one last look, an unfriendly one, before leaving the room.

"Nice going," Haymitch says once the door closes and we are alone. "I was trying to prove that you weren't some hateful Career from District Two but you really didn't help."

I only look at him.

"You can stop glaring. Hawthorne isn't here anymore."

I just glare harder. "Why would you want to prove that? Why help me?"

"Would you rather we have locked you up like Snow did?"

"Why didn't you?"

"Look, Two," he says, calling me by the name he used with me. Haymitch and I are not friends, barely even acquaintances. We have encountered each other only a few times before. "The rebellion is here whether you like it or not. I don't know how long you've been gone, but the Districts have changed. Even your home is split with rebels and Capitol-supporters. We're going to need help keeping the peace in Thirteen. We don't know what type of people will join us here. We could use support from someone like you."

"You don't know me."

"I know you've never liked Snow. That's reason enough. Why not play nice with us and help us stop him?"

I am silent. Play nice with the Girl on Fire?

"Coin, she's the boss here, will want to see you eventually. Think about what I've said when you speak with her."

And then I am left alone with my thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

_ Twack. _

I am frustrated.

_ Twack_.

My district is currently a war zone and I'm not there.

_ Twack_. _Twack_. _Twack_.

I stop when I realize I have thrown all the knives I have available. I take a deep breath. Knife throwing has always calmed me down. The sound of metal sinking into wood is satisfying.

I can feel eyes on me from different parts of the training room. I don't bother looking up, knowing the type of emotions I will see. Fear. Hate. Distrust. I woke up in the hospital about a week ago. I have barely interacted with people but from those few encounters, I know most of Thirteen do not like the people from Two. With the battle going on in Two and more citizens from my home district joining the rebellion in Thirteen, the split has been more obvious. We aren't very welcome here. They think we can turn on them any moment.

_ Clang_.

The sound of metal hitting metal wakes me from my thoughts and makes me look to my right. There is a boy practicing his knife throwing too. He looks to be around my age, seventeen years old. He is dark-haired, skinny, and only a few inches taller than me. I watch as he throws another knife incorrectly and it painfully misses the wooden target, instead hitting a metal beam to the side.

The boy cringes at the sound.

We are in a beginner's class. Haymitch has gotten permission for me to be in the training room when there are limited weapons available and guards watching very closely. I have yet to speak with Coin.

_ Clang_.

The boy has messed up again.

_ Clang_.

He is holding the knives wrong.

_ Clang_.

I hear laughter and turn to see a group of teens about our age. They are a stark contrast to the boy in front of me. While he has black hair, they mostly have blonde hair and fair skin. The group takes glances at him from across the room, the girls giggling when he misses and the boys smiling cockily.

I notice the dark-haired boy's jaw tick and his fists clench slightly as he continues training. He is aware of their ridicule.

Because I don't like the way that they look down on him, especially when they aren't much better, I find myself speaking, "You're holding them wrong."

The guy is startled by my voice. He turns to me, looks behind him, then back to me as if making sure it was him I was addressing. I can't tell from the nervous look in his eyes if recognizes me. Does he see me as another girl from Two or does he know my name too?

"The knives," I said. "You need to grip them more. Not like you're afraid of them."

He just stares at me.

I step forward and grab the knife in his hand before he can react. Without looking at him, I face his station and demonstrate holding the knife properly and throwing it. "Like that," I say holding the knife out to him.

He hesitates, looking at the weapon I offer and then to our right.

I follow his vision and see the group that was laughing earlier. Now, they have completely stopped their training to look at our corner of the room. They don't seem happy that I am interacting with the boy in front of me and watch him, waiting for his reaction.

I fix each of them with a glare. All but one go back to their training almost immediately. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He tries staring me down. Once I look straight at him, it takes two seconds for him to turn away.

Ha.

When I turn back to the dark-haired boy, he looks at me with a strange expression. I realize that I've been smiling smugly and have probably creeped him out a little so I put on a serious face and give him a pointed look.

It takes him a few seconds to process that I'm still holding out the knife to him, but then he jumps slightly, takes the weapon, and turns to his station.

"Align your elbow with the target."

He does this then throws the knife.

_Clang._

"Try again," I say before he can feel disappointment.

He does and the knife hits the wood before falling to the ground with a thud.

"Better," I comment. "But with more force this time."

When the knife leaves his hand, I know it will stick.

_Twack_.

It doesn't hit close to the bullseye, but its an impressive shot nevertheless.

The boy grins at his success.

When he turns to me, the supervisor yells that training is over. I exit the room before everyone else.

I'm barely through the door when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I spin away from the hand immediately and face the dark-haired boy.

"Thank you," he says with a smile directed at me.

I don't respond. I notice the rest of the class has caught up to us. They are exiting the room, giving different reactions to the boy conversing with me. I hear their whispers.

"What's he doing?"

"Doesn't he know who that is?"

"—dangerous."

"I'm Eli," the boy says. "What's your name?"

"Remember her Games?"

"She was…"

"…ruthless."

Eli looks at me, waiting for me to answer. But I can't stop listening to the conversations around us. Doesn't he hear them?

"—violent."

"Bloodthirsty."

"Eli!"

"Bitch."

Eli turns at the sound of his name. Another dark-haired boy comes up to us followed by other kids our age. The group hesitates when they see me.

"Hey Thom," Eli says casually.

The boy, Thom, looks unhappy. He scowls at Eli and doesn't make eye contact with me. "What do you think you're doing," he hisses.

"What?"

"You shouldn't be talking to her."

Eli looks at me confused and even though my expression remains stoic, I feel pity for his not knowing who I am, for his trying to make friends with someone like me.

"That's Isabelle the Heartbreaker," a girl says, stepping out from the group. She glares at me with so much hate. "She's the District Two Victor from the 72nd Hunger Games."


	5. Chapter 5

I was fifteen when I was reaped for the 72nd Hunger Games. I had been going to the Academy for only two years and even though I had made the Specials program, which was meant only for the best students, I didn't think I would win. Blake, my district partner and friend, seemed the likely winner. He was a Special too. He was good-looking, strong, and thoughtful. He was a good guy. The Capitol loved him too.

But then our Career alliance betrayed us. They took Blake and I by surprise and had me watch as Hadrian, the District 1 male tribute, tortured him to death.

The rest of my Games was a blur. I was filled with rage as I took out the rest of the tributes. I had no mercy when I used a knife to carve open Hadrian's chest as he had done to Blake. When I ripped his heart from his body and held it in my hands, I was crowned Victor. I went from Isabelle Valentine, the icy tribute from District Two, to Isabelle the Heartbreaker.

The girl who stands before me can only see Isabelle the Heartbreaker. From her posture and expression, I feel that the hatred she has for me is unlike that which I've encountered before in Thirteen. This is personal. She must have lost someone to my Games.

My suspicions are supported when I glance at Eli. He looks back and forth between the girl and I, unsure. He doesn't seem scared of me yet. He looks like he wants to speak up for me actually. But he still worries for his friend. He can't decide what to do.

I make the decision for him.

The girl whose name I learn is Talia as her friends advise her to back down notices the change in my expression first. She watches as I replace my apathetic appearance with an arrogant smile.

Eli, on the other hand, looks surprised. I can't look at him as I speak. "So you know who I am," I say as conceited as possibly.

There is a light in Talia's eyes as if she is satisfied to know I am what she has made me out to be. She's probably feeling smugger than I'm acting.

"Do you want an autograph or something," I ask.

Talia practically growls, understanding that I am trying to rile her up. The boy, Thom, glares at me as he stops her from lunging at me. I try not to think about how horrified Eli is with me as I continue flashing my superior smile. My fake, fake smile.

"If you know what's best for you," I say, glancing at Eli. "You'll stay away from me."

"Because you'll only get hurt in the end." I say this last sentence while looking at Talia then turn around and walk away. I walk away from the group with them believing I'm a horrible person. I walk away, remembering the look I saw on Eli's face as I warned him to stay away. I walk away thinking of all the words that Panem has used to describe me.

Stone-cold.

Ruthless.

Violent.

Bloodthirsty.

Bitch.


	6. Chapter 6

The hospital is a mess. After leaving many soldiers and citizens injured, the Battle at Two is almost at an end. I am sitting in the crowded hallway of the hospital section of Thirteen, eating the supplements that I have had to eat the past three weeks. A nurse handed them to me before rushing to stitch up a crying boy.

I have seen many people crying in the hallway today, some in joy, others for their losses. Hiding in my hospital room has not been an option because it is no longer my room. It now belongs to none other than Katniss Everdeen, who is healing from a gunshot wound.

I am reaching into my cup of vitamins while watching a father hug his young daughter tightly when suddenly someone has wrapped their arms around me and pulled me tightly to their chest. The cup has slipped from my hand and the vitamins have been scattered on the ground. But I don't care. Because when I fail at pushing away from the person who is holding me so tightly, the person only pulls me closer and speaks into my hair, "Thank god you're alive."

I stop struggling against the hug and look up into familiar brown eyes. "Aidan?"

"Isabelle," he retorts with a smile.

Suddenly, I'm the one giving the hug, which he returns immediately. I'm laughing from happiness. His eyes are tired, but there is a lightness to them. Aidan is sweet and playful as usual. He is also alive.

I pull away from the hug first to inspect his body, making sure he has no injuries.

"I'm fine," he assures me.

I keep checking though, which he only laughs at. With a smile—Aidan almost always has a grin on his face—he grabs my head with both hands and makes me face him properly. He studies my features.

The smile is still there but smaller when he speaks, "I wasn't sure if I'd ever see you again. The last time I saw you, you were being carried away by Peacekeepers. You were gone for days then weeks and then I didn't know anymore."

I give him a meaningful look. "I'm Isabelle Valentine. I'm a survivor, remember?"

"Yeah," he says, nodding and pretending to look very serious.

There is the sound of glass breaking and we both turn to see an injured girl struggling against two nurses. She has knocked a syringe away and refuses to be helped. I recognize her as one of our classmates and am about to stand up when they finally subdue her.

I turn back to Aidan quickly, "Where's Alex?"

Alex was the other friend I had left behind in District Two. Other than him and Aidan, all my other closest friends were already dead.

Aidan shakes his head. When he sees my expression fall, he starts to reassure me. "No, no, I don't know if anything bad has happened," he says. "You know Alex. If there's anyone who will survive all of this, it's him. He knows how to take care of himself."

I nod, letting his words sink in. "Where's Anna," I ask. "And your parents?"

He doesn't have to say a word. When I see the look on his face, I know that they have not survived. He hides his face on my shoulder. He is not crying but I know he's barely holding it together. Anna was only eleven years old. She is Aidan's little sister and he had always taken care of her.

"They blew up the Nut, Isabelle."

"What," I ask, looking down at him. I know I have heard him the first time but don't believe it.

"They blew up the Nut," he says, revealing his angry expression.

"The Capitol blew up the Nut," I state. At first I'm horrified, astonished by how far they are willing to go, but then I'm angry and remember that I really should not be so surprised.

"No, not the Capitol," Aidan tells me. "The rebels."

What?

"People were trapped after the explosion. They suffocated in there if they didn't get blown to bits first."

I close my eyes, thinking of the people from my home district, gasping for air and waiting for help that does not make it. I can feel the desperation they must have had and am reminded of my time in the Capitol. The dark cell. The room that smelled of blood. The electric chair. The water up to my knees. Then my chest. My neck. And then suddenly I'm-.

Aidan is touching my shoulder. He looks at me concerned and I realize he's been calling my name.

"Sorry," I say. "Sorry."

He doesn't ask. He's used to this. When I came back from the Games, I zoned out a lot like that.

I try my best to focus on my conversation with Aidan and not think about anything else. I face him and I think he's about to say something when he stops, looking past my shoulder.

I turn and see a man in District Thirteen's soldier uniform walking toward us with a purpose.

"Isabelle Valentine," he addresses when he's reached us. "President Coin would like to speak with you."


	7. Chapter 7

I enter the room to see an older woman, who I assume is Coin, sitting behind a large desk. She appears to have just finished having a heated conversation with Haymitch, who stands off to the side. Next to him, Gale Hawthorne leans against a bookshelf. He looks upset even before noticing me.

It all must have something to do with Katniss being shot, I think unconcerned.

"You're looking less awful," Haymitch comments, trying to break the silence that came the moment I entered the office.

There are three other people in the room. One of them is the soldier who brought me to Coin's office. The other two appear to be guards. Even though I had noticed and ignored the soldier taking glances back at me on the way here, they all silently observe me. I don't expect a fight, but the guns attached to their waists remind me to alert and careful.

The sound of Coin saying my name makes me turn to look at her.

"Isabelle Valentine. Also known as Isabelle the Heartbreaker by Panem. Current age: seventeen. Hair color: brown. Eye color: blue. Height: 5'7". Only child. Status of parents: dead. Mother taken by sickness. Father in a fire. Sent to the Academy late but made it into Specials program quickly. Put into the top group known as the Alphas. Specialty: knives and stamina. A tribute to the 72nd Games. Won after carving out the heart of the District 1 male tribute using her district partner's knife. Victor at age fifteen."

She finally looks up from the papers she retrieved from her desk. Her pale grey eyes were passive, but there was something distrustful hidden beneath them.

"So you can write a book about me," I say calmly, even though I don't like having details of my life told to complete strangers. "Complete with pictures."

"I have an offer for you," she states. "I've seen most of your records. I think you'll be a useful asset to District Thirteen. I believe you can help us with the Rebellion."

"Why would you want my help," I ask cautiously.

"Your records are impressive. You're a great fighter. You're well-known."

I laugh dryly. "Yeah. In the worst way. Have you seen the way people in this place look at me? How they look at the people from my District?"

"That'll all die down with _your_ help. We need someone like you to change that."

"Let me ask you again. Have you_ seen_ the way that most of the citizens react to me? They're scared. I'm not saying I blame them. I'm just trying to get my point across. I'm not the person you're looking for."

"We need someone strong and determined. From my sources, I heard you are with the right push. We need somebody who has a good reputation with the Career districts."

"My classmates hardly respect me."

"I've heard otherwise."

I am about to question who her sources are but she continues speaking, "You're a Victor. That has earned you a lot of recognition and respect from the type of people that we want you to help us communicate with and keep us up to date on. As this war against the Capitol progresses, we get more and more people joining us in Thirteen. Most of them are aware of the Capitol's cruelty and are loyal to our cause, but I predict there will be some who have other goals or who need more convincing." She looks at me when she says the last categorization.

"You don't know me."

"I know a lot about you," she says. "These papers tell me more than you probably realize. The names of your friends. The name of your boyfriend."

My first reaction is surprise. She knows something like that. I wonder who else here does. My second is to glare, wondering how she could dare talk about him here.

"_Late_ boyfriend," I remind her. "How did you even get my records?"

"Lyme."

"Lyme," I repeat to myself. "_She's_ your source. Where is she? I haven't seen her."

"I regret to inform you that she's dead. She was killed in the Battle at Two."

Lyme and I were never close or anything. She visited the Academy every once and a while and we had interacted, but she was as secretive as I was. I am still affected by Coin's not so sorry condolences though. Lyme was a strong, independent woman. Stupidly, I am surprised to hear she has died. I am also sad. Another person from my District gone. Another Victor gone.

That could have been me.

Remembering that I am in a room with six other people who are watching my reaction closely, I recover fast. I swallow the lump that was beginning to form in my throat and speak, "So that's why you want me. With Lyme gone, you need someone else to assure peace with the Career districts. Why not use Finnick Odair? I've heard he's here somewhere. He's from Four and everybody loves him."

"Finnick is helping us," Haymitch answers for her. "But he's not what we're looking for. He made his loyalty clear in the Quarter Quell. He doesn't have the same connection that you do with the type of people we need to interact with. And he's from District Four. They don't get the same reactions from the other districts than the people from your place do."

Haymitch's words were true. It was my district that was especially known for having bloodthirsty Careers. The reason why the other rebels might not trust us is because of the concern that we would turn on them, that it was in our nature to like violence and stand up for the Capitol. My District wasn't made up of bad people born to be killers, but I can't deny that there were students at the Academy who were pretty close. Most kids who attended the Academy were eager to fight. They weren't scared to get in an argument.

And those were the type of people that Coin needed to have a connection to. There would be young adults like me who attended the Academy and would make good soldiers. They would be useful to the Rebellion but only if they were on our side. Some of them might have only came to Thirteen because of their families. They would not actually like being here and wouldn't try to hide it. They'd cause problems not for the Capitol but just to refuse authority. If they reacted to the dirty looks they would receive from the people here, then it would be a mess.

"We also need someone that we can depend on to not try a coup d'etat."

For the first time, I openly acknowledge Gale whose comment had pulled me from my thoughts. I turn to him and see the familiar expression that he has around me. It is serious, cautious, and somewhat angry. By the way he spoke, he does not think I am that someone.

"Let it go, Hawthorne," Haymitch says, sighing. "We can rely on her."

"I don't understand how you guys believe that? Especially from what we know of her relationships."

So he does know.

"How do we know you won't hurt Katniss," he asks me. "She might want revenge for her boyfriend," he tells the rest of the room.

The room is silent at first. I think they expect me to talk, to defend myself or argue with him. But I just look back at him blankly. I don't need to explain myself to any of these people.

"Drop it," Haymitch warns when he sees I won't respond.

"I _don't_ trust her," Gale tells Haymitch. He says each word slowly.

"We can rely on her," Haymitch says, returning his look.

That's when I decide to speak up. Even I don't really understand where all this faith in me is coming from.

"How do you know that?"

The guards look a little thrown off that I'm not defending my case. Even Gale turns away from his stare down with Haymitch.

"Sweetheart, there's no doubt that you and Snow don't get along," Haymitch answers. I glare at his tone and his word choice.

"How canyou be so sure of my relationship with Snow? How do you know I don't have other goals?"

It is Coin that speaks next.

"I have multiple examples of evidence, including the condition that Soldier Hawthorne found you in at the Capitol prisons."

"If you were some Capitol-supporting Victor, you wouldn't have been tortured. You would have been set free." Haymitch says this about me but looks at Gale when he talks.

I glance at Gale and realize, it must have been a pretty horrible sight, finding me there. For once, he's not looking as though he wants to fight me. He notices my gaze. Our eyes lock and I send him a silent message: Don't feel sorry for me, don't you dare. When his expression hardens again, I am satisfied and look at Coin as she starts to speak.

"If you agree to this offer, you will be a vital part of taking down the Capitol and ultimately, Snow. You will also be allowed to train in the advanced sessions with my soldiers because eventually you'll be one of my soldiers. What is your answer?"

I've trained with arrogant potential Careers. I've had to deal with Snow and his politics. So I am completely aware of the undertone of her voice and the way she looks at me. She's presenting all of this as if it is a favor to me on her part. If I answer yes, I'm not only making her happy by agreeing to help her but also giving her the upper hand.

I've never been as prideful as the other people from my District. I want Snow's death and am usually eager to side with anyone who wants his downfall. I should just agree to help them and be grateful for being saved from the Capitol. But I couldn't do all of that. I really didn't like Coin or have respect for her. She had already tried intimidating me multiple times since I entered her office and I hated her way of power play. I was going to make things difficult for them.

"You blew up the Nut."

The atmosphere of the room changes instantly. I've been pretty dispassionate and distant during this whole conversation, but now my words are spoken with barely contained anger. I realize how upset I actually am about this action after hearing myself talk about it aloud.

"You blew up the Nut," I say again when no one responds. "You asking me to help your relationship with the people from my district when you've literally bombed it."

Coin glances to the side. I look at Gale whose expression is sympathetic and angry at the same time. There is some guilt too that usually I would care about, but right now, I'm not my normal self. All it tells me is he helped bomb the Nut.

"We weren't trying to blow the whole place up," Gale defends. "We were only disabling it. A tunnel was left intact for people to escape."

"Then explain to me why I heard people suffocated to death in there."

The muscle on Gale's jaw ticks. "We gave them a chance. They didn't take it. Instead, they turned on Katniss and shot her."

"She'll live," I comment. "A lot of them didn't, did they?"

He pushes off the wall and takes a step toward me. We're facing each other. "They didn't surrender!"

"Some of them didn't have the chance to," I shout back. "They were scared and trapped and they didn't know what to do! There were normal citizens working there. _Good _and _innocent_ people."

"There were people like that too in my District. A lot of them," Gale says. I'm not the only one who is extremely pissed off now. "The Capitol didn't care when they bombed it, when people burned in the flames."

"So you take it out on us," I ask or rather scream.

"Calm down, Two," Haymitch says. He knows me as quiet and icy not violent and angry.

"You're asking _me_ to calm down? What about this guy," I say, pointing a finger at Gale who just scowls back at me. "What did you tell him when thought bombing the Nut was a good idea? Based of what? His need for vengeance on the Capitol, an _outlet _for his anger."

I am breathing heavily now. The room is silent and tense, but I'm past uncomfortable, I'm hurt and extremely upset for all the citizens of my district that could not voice anything when they suffocated in the debris or were blown to pieces.

"It was a strategic move. The Nut is a major source of weapons for the Capitol. It was going to be captured, so it was smart of Soldier Hawthorne to disable it."

I just stare at Coin. I don't know why I'm so horrified but I am. I should have learned by now that people can do things that are so very wrong and never see the fault in their actions. I'm shocked by how unconcerned she is.

She doesn't feel bad at all.

Just like Snow, I realize.

"You asked me for my answer," I say quietly but clearly. I'm barely containing my anger again. "Fuck you. Fuck all of you."

I turn and head for the doors.

I hear Coin's crisp voice. "Our meeting _is not_ over."

A guard, the soldier who brought me to her office in the first place, reaches for me, telling me to stop. I grab his hand at a certain angle then twist it. He tries to move out of the grip but only ends up hurting himself more.

"Don't try touching me again," I growl in his ear before releasing his hand and walking out of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Coin doesn't call on me the next day. Even Haymitch doesn't try talking to me. I think they are going to give me space, hoping I will convince myself otherwise.

But I am too busy doing other things. Like ignoring the attention I get when I enter the cafeteria. It is the first time I have been somewhere so public. Before, I could have gotten my meals served to me by a nurse. But now that I've been cleared from the hospital, it's the only way I can get food. It's not that I'm too lazy to walk, it's just tiring having to deal with the attention.

Most of the looks I receive are the usual ones of fear and distrust, but there is also surprise, relief, and skepticism from the people in my district who did not know what had happened to me or did not expect me here.

Despite it being located close to the Capitol, Two was one of the smaller districts. Because of this, I am able to spot the people from my district. Clusters of teens stand out to me. They sit at tables concentrated in the corner of the cafeteria, away from everyone else. They are the type of people that Coin worries about. If they had been tributes in the Games, they would have been in the Career pack. Although the war has worn them out, they are still strong and fit, the type of kids who trained hard at the Academy, the type of people I was often around.

A pair of eyes catches mine. They belong to Garric Ducane, the brother of Blake Ducane, my district partner from the Games.

He smiles at me. I can only nod in acknowledgement.

I don't mean to be cold and I think, or hope, that he knows this. Garric and I are friends but aren't that close since we had trained in different groups at the Academy. I knew his twin brother better. Even though they had different looks-Garric has brown hair and eyes and Blake had black hair and blue eyes- and personalities, Garric reminds me of his brother too much. They have the same smile.

I continue scanning the room, looking for Aidan who is supposed to meet me for lunch, when I spot another familiar face watching me. His name is Jason. He has a normal build which had always put him at a disadvantage in the Academy. He smirks at me as if saying, I knew you'd make it out of there. It's a wry, twisted expression. While we are on neutral terms, he's never gotten along with the other kids in our district so I'm not surprised to see him sitting in the center of the cafeteria with his family.

It's the family that his sits near that catches me off guard.

To the left of Jason is Gale Hawthorne who is looking at me with a moody expression. A little girl who sits in his lap is trying to get his attention, but he continues staring at me.

I just look away.

I don't want to fight. I hadn't planned on arguing with him the other day. I hadn't planned on showing those people so much emotion. But I was too angry.

I slipped up.

Displaying my feelings will only lead to unwanted attention.

My mistake.

"Isabelle."

My eyes stop searching the cafeteria. They are wide as I turn to the source of the voice that has spoken my name.

Alex stands a few feet away. His dark green eyes are cautious and unsure as he studies me.

I'm usually not one to hug my friends. Neither is Alex. We both like having personal space. But I'm so relieved to see him that I take the few steps toward him and jump, throwing my arms around his shoulders.

I know he decides that it's really me the moment I reach him. He could have avoided it but instead he puts one hand on my hair and the other on my back, pulling me closer gently.

He lets out a sigh but doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to. Alex and I have always been rather similar. We're both collected people. Although he has always been calm and cool while I'm more restricted and reserved. We both prefer silence to noise and don't mind being alone.

Suddenly arms wrap around the both of us and we're being lifted into the air together. I hear a laugh beneath us.

"Aidan," Alex says irritated. Our feet are hovering off the floor slightly. "Put us down."

"Say the magic word."

Alex doesn't hesitate. I feel his arm move slightly.

Aidan yelps in pain when Alex hits him. He releases us immediately.

My feet touch the floor and I'm no longer connected to either of the boys in front of me.

"Ow," Aidan says, rubbing the back of his head and glaring at Alex like an upset child. Alex just ignores Aidan and runs a hand through his dark blond hair.

I just stare at both of them, relieved that my friends are alive and the same as always.

"So it's true." Even before I turn around to face the person, I know whom it is. I recognize the attitude in her voice immediately. Vanity Williams, a girl from my district, looks at me with a mix between a sneer and a smirk. "Little Isabelle survived the Capitol and is here in Thirteen."

She is beautiful. Her looks should make her seem sweet but her arrogance and viciousness have always ruined that effect.

The condescending tone she uses when she says my name doesn't go unnoticed. The people at the tables around us have gone quiet.

Her blue eyes look to the two boys behind me. "Aidan. Alex," she addresses in a different voice. She's always liked them.

"Hey Vanity," Aidan says politely.

Alex just looks at her bored. He doesn't care for being pleasant to people and can be cruel when he wants to be. He's never cared for Vanity either.

Vanity knows this as she turns back to me. "So is this where you've been the past few months? Hiding here while our district fell apart?"

We have caught the attention of most of the cafeteria. People glance at her and then at me. They're wondering who this girl is, challenging Isabelle the Heartbreaker. They're curious and some are even scared of how I'll react.

"Heaven forbid that Isabelle the Heartbreaker, a star student of the Academy and a good citizen of Panem, be punished for anything," she continues, sneering. "So how did you get out? Did they just let you go?"

The kids from Two only watch with amused interest. They've seen this many times before and know that nothing ever happens. Vanity is all bark, but no bite. And me? Well, I've never been much of a talker. And Vanity has never intimidated me. She's tried and failed. We both know that I can beat her in a fight. A physical one, that is.

"They wouldn't hurt one of their _precious_ Victors, would they?"

I narrow my eyes at her, now understanding what she's doing. She might have sounded jealous while talking about me because for some reason she always has been and acted like a jealous girl out to get me. But really, she has ulterior motives. Potential Careers should never be underestimated and Vanity is no exception this time. She's purposely highlighted what used to give me credit in District Two but now gives me a bad reputation in Thirteen. She wants the Rebels and the people in this cafeteria who are listening to distrust me.

"Vanity—."

I put my hand up slightly, interrupting Aidan. He was about defend me by telling her and everyone else listening that I had actually been held in the Capitol, imprisoned and tortured for two weeks. It would have helped with the cautious, suspicious looks I got.

But at the cost of my vulnerability.

And honestly, that was not worth the price. It wouldn't change everyone's opinion of me anyway.

I ended up not having to think of another way to get Vanity to back down because suddenly, Garric was there.

"Is everything all right," he asked. He looked casual and innocent as he rubbed the back of his neck. But I had seen him approach. He had walked with intent. He was here to draw Vanity's attention away from me. And draw her attention did he do to no surprise. Every student at the District Two Academy knew that if there was anyone that Vanity loved more than she disliked me, it had been Blake. He had never openly showed any interest in her, but he had always been a thoughtful, charming guy. Vanity had a weak spot for him. And it seems his brother too.

"Garric," she said surprised and happy. Her voice had changed. It wasn't sugary sweet, just softer.

"Hey," he said, flashing her a smile before turning his gaze to me. "So, is everything okay?"

Vanity suddenly looked nervous. I had to fight back a smile at Garric's acting. He had always been an innocent guy with boyish charm. I had never seen him use it like this as a weapon though. He wasn't the scheming type. That was more of his brother's thing. Not that Blake was untrustworthy. He was just always thinking. He always had a plan up his sleeve.

"No," she replied for me. "I mean, yes. Everything is okay. I was just saying hi to Isabelle. I haven't seen her for a while."

"Oh okay," he said, acting like he didn't hear her taunting me earlier from across the silent cafeteria. "Yeah, me too. It's good to see her alive and well."

"Yeah," Vanity got out. "Real good."

Alex and Aidan didn't bother hiding their smiles. While Aidan's was a genuinely amused one, resulting from Garric's using his charms, Alex's was more of a dark grin, resulting from Vanity's discomfort with having to say that she was happy to see me breathing.

Only after Aidan makes a comment when Vanity leaves following Garric am I not able to keep the amusement from my eyes. "He's devious. I _so_ wish Blake could have seen that."

_Yeah_, I think. I let a corner of my mouth go up slightly. _Blake would be proud._

For a few seconds longer, I'm still happy. I'm a little more amused when I notice how people turn away when they see Alex's dark expression.

But then, the lightness dies almost immediately and with it, any sign of emotion on my face. _Blake is dead_, I remind myself. _He can't enjoy this moment_.

_ So neither can you._


	9. Chapter 9

I look over the lake. There are always noises in the Arena coming from the creatures that live in the rainforest whether it's the bugs, which are probably venomous, and the animals, which definitely have a taste for human flesh.

Other than the waterfall that crashes into it in the distance, the lake is calm though.

And it is probably the most dangerous part of the Arena.

I don't want to know what Capitol creations swim in it. I picture a large worm with the mouth the size of a cavern. The idea of being in the center of the lake and suddenly getting swallowed whole, the worm engulfing me from below and rows of teeth surrounding me, stops me from taking another step toward the shore.

"What are you thinking?"

My head turns slightly to the right as I look at Blake whose gaze is on the body of water in front of us.

His black hair only compliments the blue eyes that make him so attractive to other girls. They are thoughtful, always analyzing and planning. He even chose this spot by the waterfall so that no one in the arena can hear our conversations. I doubt even the Capitol is able to broadcast our whispers over the crashing sound of the waterfall. I have always known Blake is good-looking, but his eyes are the wrong shade of blue for me. I miss the bright blue orbs of another boy back home. The boy who doesn't take crap from anyone and won't hold back his temper to impress a girl. The one who, if you haven't gained his respect, won't act like you have. He is straightforward, brutal, and dangerous.

The boy who girls want to love but don't know how.

I know he is watching us right now. There are cameras everywhere, probably zooming in on my face. I make sure to keep my expression neutral. I wonder if he knows that I am thinking about him at this moment.

There is a growling noise to my side. When I turn to the sound, I see a dog. It isn't a normal dog. It's definitely a creation of the Capitol. It bares it teeth at me.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand when it growls. I shouldn't be scared. Dogs don't scare me, not even this Capitol abomination. I have a knife. I should be prepared to fight it. But I am scared. I'm frozen in place because when I look into its eyes, they are so familiar. Bright blue orbs look angrily at me.

Then the dog pounces.

I shoot up from my bed. I am sweating and my heart is racing.

It was just a dream. Another nightmare.

The floor is cold when I get out of the bed. It is late at night and I try to be quiet as I step out of my room, walk through the living room area, and then enter the bathroom. I turn on the sink then splash my face with water.

Nightmares are not foreign to me. I've had them often since my Games. My time in the Capitol prison has only messed up my head more. It's been a while since they've been so vivid. Most of my dream had been a memory. Up until the dog, I had been reliving the beginning of a conversation I had with Blake during our Games. The part with the dog was fake, but the fear had felt real.

I look up from the sink and at my reflection. Dark blue eyes stare back at me. Blue has always been my favorite color. Not because they are the color of my eyes, but someone else's.

I hate that the Capitol has slowly been taking even that comfort away from me.

I turn off the sink then walk back into the living room.

Aidan sits on the couch. "Hi," he says.

Aidan, Alex, and I share a unit together here in Thirteen. It works out well for me. They are the closest friends I have left. Aidan's family is gone. Alex's parents had passed away before I had met him. Back in Two, he lived with his aunt and uncle. They're staying in another unit with their kids now.

"Hi," I reply, sitting next to him.

"Nightmare?"

I nod, pulling my legs up to my chest. Both of us stare down at the ground. The lights are off and it is quiet. "What about you," I ask.

"Same."

I glance at Aidan. His eyes are shut.

I have had several years to cope with my father's death. My mom died when I was pretty young. But Aidan's wounds are raw. He lost his entire family just two days ago.

Aidan breaks the silence first. "I wasn't with them when it happened. I should have been, but I wasn't. When I finally found them, it was too late. Everything was either destroyed or on fire."

I'm silent. I don't know what to say or do. I've never known how to comfort others. Aidan knows this as he continues talking. "Want to know something crazy? The cemetery was the only thing that may have survived. It was too far on the outskirts of Two."

"Does that mean the Wall still stands?"

"Yeah."

The Wall is a giant stone slab that has the names of the tributes from Two who did not survive the Games. For most people of District Two, it was an honoring of those who fought bravely for our district's pride. For some, it had been a reminder of the pain the Games inflicted. Either way, the Wall was a memorial for the Fallen, the ones that had been taken by the Capitol.

It's important to the both of us that the Wall still stands. The other districts judge us for having so many tributes that become Victors but we've had our losses too. The names of some of our closest friends are engraved on the Wall.

Blake.

Clove.

Cato…

I sit with Aidan in silence for a while, and later that morning, when I go back to sleep, I dream that I am dying in the Nut.

The next day before dinner, when I am walking to my unit from the training room, I see something I really don't like.

"Give it back," a boy says. He stands protectively in front of a younger boy and an even younger girl.

They look like siblings with their dark hair and olive skin.

In front of them are two older teenage boys who look around my age. They

grin cockily. One of them has a doll rabbit in his hands. "Try to take it," he says.

The group has not noticed me. We are the only people in this hallway.

"Rory," the younger boy warns. He is soothing the younger girl who is crying. "Don't."

Rory just growls quietly in frustration. I notice his fists are tightly clenched. He knows he can't take on the two teens. Their statures might not compare to Aidan's, but they still seem pretty strong. They have muscles while Rory is skinny. I wouldn't be surprised if they were from District 4. They're not from my district and there aren't any people that I know of from District One that have joined the Rebels.

The little girl does something unexpected. She runs past Rory and reaches for the stuffed animal. When Rory tries to stop her, he is pushed back and falls harshly to the ground.

The teen boy doesn't release his hold on the doll as the little girl tries to pull it from him. He just laughs and continues to when she stumbles, loses her grip, and falls back too.

Luckily, Rory catches her while still on the ground.

"You guys are cruel," the youngest boy shouts. He crouches down to look at the little girl who is now clutching onto Rory and sobbing quietly.

The teen boys just laugh. "Got any other words in your vocabulary to describe us," one of them taunts.

"As******," Rory states.

They just laugh harder.

"How about pathetic?"

All eyes turn to me, except for the girl's. She is still hiding her face in Rory's shoulder. I walk to stand next to the three younger kids and face the two older teens.

"Who are you," the boy holding the rabbit asks. Like his friend, he is examining me, wondering who interrupted their fun. Before, when I was in my best physical shape, I would have been able to take on both of them with the right moves. But now, I'm not so sure. I will have to get through this with words and confidence.

I start by ignoring the question. "Really? Picking on kids younger than you. That's its own category of stupid for someone to do that here."

"Stay out of our business," the boy says.

"Don't you have better things to do," I say unfazed by his warning tone.

"The girl ran into me. She should have watched where she was going."

I glance at Rory who looks up at me with cautious grey eyes.

Something about him is familiar. I know I've never met him before though. I look at the little girl in his arms and realize I recognize her. She was the same one I saw sitting on Gale's lap the other day.

Then I realize who these kids are. They must be Gale's siblings because the third kid looks too much like Gale to be anyone else.

The little girl finally looks up from Rory's shoulder. Her grey eyes stare up at me filled with tears. I focus my attention back to the boys in front of me.

"What district are you guys from," I ask.

"Four," he responds proudly.

"Two," I state casually, even though I was never asked.

"Drew." Drew, the boy holding the doll, had been doing all the talking. His friend had remained silent, looking at me, until now.

"So you went to the Academy," Drew asks me, ignoring his friend.

"Yup," I respond.

Drew looks impressed and pleased with my response. He crosses his arms over his chest, making himself look bigger. "So you know what the Specials Program is?"

"Yup." All of the Career Districts had an Academy where kids from the age of 12-18 could train and prepare for the Hunger Games. It was different from normal school. Its students were judged off factors that would help in the Games. The best fighters were usually the best students in the Academy. These were the type of kids put into the Specials Program. The Program consisted of three classes: Alpha, Beta and Gamma.

"We were both Gammas," Drew says arrogantly.

Even though Gammas were the lowest level class, it was considered very impressive to be one because it meant being in the Special Program.

"What about you," Drew's friend asks. I can tell by his tone that he already knows the answer.

"I was an Alpha."

The effect is as expected. Alphas are the best of the best. Having the status of an Alpha gives you respect in the Career community.

There is respect and caution present in the eyes of Drew's friend. But Drew is a different story. He laughs. "I don't believe you," he says.

I just stand there unaffected. I've lost my paleness and regained some of my strength. I look normal. I'm aware that doesn't help me convince him of anything.

"Drew."

"What," he says, turning to his friend while chuckling.

"That's Isabelle Valentine."

Drew immediately stops laughing and turns back to me. He looks at me seriously.

"Brown hair. Blue eyes. District Two. Alpha," his friend lists off. "I heard she's one of the Victors they saved from the Capitol."

Drew nods in agreement with his friend's words. He's smiling, looking arrogantly down at me. "You don't look like much," he mocks.

"That's what everyone thought about Johanna Mason," I respond. "Before she won the 71st Hunger Games."

The smile on his face disappears while one appears on mine. It's vicious and confident, borderlining a smirk.

"It's also what Hadrian Radshaw said about me before I ripped his heart out," I add.

The first part of that statement is a lie. But it does the trick.

Drew tries to hide his uneasiness. He knows he's crossed a line now, messed with an Alpha, who is not only a Victor but is also known for taking out a group of actual Careers with only a knife. His friend either doesn't try or fails at hiding his fear. Physically, he's still standing there. But mentally, he's backed away from this stand off by more than several steps.

"Whatever. You can have the doll back," Drew says, tossing it to me. His friend and him start to walk away. "We were just messing around."

I turn back to the little girl, offering the stuffed animal. When she reaches up to grab it with her small hand, I can't help it. "Wait," I call out, not looking away from the girl.

I hear the two District Four boys stop walking. "What," Drew says. He sounds annoyed.

"You need to apologize," I say.

"What?"

I turn back to face the two older teens. "You need to apologize to these kids."

Drew and his friend look at me incredulously.

"You caused them a lot of trouble," I comment.

Drew looks ready to argue when his friend speaks, "We're sorry."

"Jace!"

Jace ignores Drew this time. He looks at me, waiting for a response.

It's not his apology I wanted though and he seems to understand this as he turns to his friend. Jace is smart, from what I've seen so far, or smarter than Drew at least. I think he's the one that really ends up making the decisions because with a serious and stern look from him, Drew complies. "Sorry," he mutters.

"I didn't hear that."

The three of us older teens turn to Rory who is now on his feet. He crosses his arms, grinning mischievously at Drew. His younger sister stands next to him. She hugs the rabbit tightly to her chest.

Drew is about to take a few steps toward us but Jace stops him. "With one Alpha, comes more," Jace warns.

Drew is extremely reluctant as he spits out an apology. "Sorry," he says louder before storming out. Jace follows him without a second glance.

I watch them until they walk around the corner before turning to the three kids.

They all stare at me.

I stare back.

(BREAK)

"It was SO cool, Mom."

I am standing awkwardly in the Hawthorne's unit after Rory and mini Gale, whose name I learned is Vick, dragged me to meet their mom. Rory has just told his story of how I "saved" him and his siblings from "butthole" teenagers from Four.

"Thank you, Isabelle," Mrs. Hawthorne says. "Posy loves that doll. Her oldest brother, Gale, gave it to her."

I have only started nodding in response when their front door opens. Speak of the devil.

As expected, Gale is very surprised to see me with his family. What I don't expect is the look of concern that immediately takes over his features when he notices Posy and her tear-stained eyes. Forgetting to glare at me, he rushes over and kneels down to her height. It's oddly touching.

The last thought is knocked out of my mind when Gale faces me with an angry expression. "What did you do?"

I back up as he stands to his full height. I'm not intimidated. I'm just startled by his thought process. "Excuse me," I say a bit defensively.

"Gale," Mrs. Hawthorne shouts before he can say another word. "Isabelle didn't do anything. It was some boys from Four. She actually helped Posy and your brothers."

It takes Gale a while to absorb his mother's words. The look he gives me is strange. It's a mix between disbelief, caution, and another emotion I can't quite place.

"It's true!" Rory pipes in then starts retelling his story to Gale with Vick. I watch as Gale looks down at his younger brothers and focuses on their animated talk.

"I should go," I tell Mrs. Hawthorne.

"Why don't you join us for dinner," she asks.

"What." Gale and I speak at the same time. For once, we have something in common. We're both caught off guard by her suggestion.

"Dinner starts soon. We'd love your company."

Gale does not seem sure about that.

"Um, with all due respect, Mrs. Hawthorne," I start to decline.

"You can call me Hazelle," she says with a smile.

I nod a bit awkwardly. "Okay, well, um, Hazelle." I say her name with discomfort. It's strange being so informal with Gale's mother. "Thank you. For the invitation. But I should sit with my friends. They got here just recently and are new to all of this." I almost cringe at my excuse. Aidan and Alex would do fine without me.

Hazelle nods in understanding though. "Okay, then another time," she states with a smile.

I doubt Gale would want that. I look at him to find him watching me intently. His eyes only avert away from mine to lower his gaze at something else. I feel a tug on my shirt and look down to see Posy staring up at me.

"Will you play with me another time," she asks.

"Um, sure," I reply. She's so small. Her big grey eyes that look up at me make it really hard to say no.

"Promise?"

That word makes me freeze inside.

Promises used to mean a lot to me. But I had become so accustomed to having them broken that I stopped even making them.

I can feel the Hawthornes' staring at me, waiting for my response. I have the urge to shift uncomfortably as I speak. "Yeah," I manage. "I promise." It's not that I plan on breaking it. It's just the first promise I've made in a long time.

I say my goodbyes and head to the cafeteria.

When I'm sitting with Alex and Aidan, I am aware of the grey eyes that watch me from across the cafeteria.


	10. Chapter 10

**(A/N) Please review/give me suggestions. I'm new to writing. I would really appreciate any thoughts.**

"Who is he?"

"Who," I ask Aidan. We are sitting at a table with Alex. Aidan has been quiet ever since dinner started.

Both Alex and I had been waiting for him to say what was on his mind.

"That guy with dark hair and olive skin," he says, staring over my shoulder.

Granted, there are a lot of people from District Twelve with that trademark description, but I know exactly who Aidan is talking about. I just shrug though, not bothering to turn around.

"He's been glancing at you all week."

Alex looks around the cafeteria lazily. "Where."

"My 1 o'clock," Aidan says. "Tall. Looks strong."

I watch Alex's reaction, wondering if he recognizes the person.

"I would say that maybe he likes you, but sometimes he looks pretty angry and it's directed at you," Aidan comments.

"Isabelle, what have you done to piss of Gale Hawthorne?"

I half-heartedly glare at Alex. I haven't done anything wrong recently. I don't know why he's watching me either. "Nothing," I defend.

"That's him?" Aidan asks, looking at Gale with a new interest.

"How do you know about Hawthorne," I ask.

"I remember him from the interviews that they screened of family members," Alex responds. "He's the Girl on Fire's cousin."

"He was at Two when Katniss got shot. He caught her. He might be only a little older than us but apparently he's one of the leaders here. Ever since he helped get his district here. Most people know of him."

Aidan's words remind of that time I walked into Coin's office. Gale had been looking particularly agitated. I knew it had to do with his cousin.

Alex looks at me. "Have you met him?"

"We've exchanged words."

Alex raises an eyebrow and then looks at Aidan who just shrugs. They both wait for me to explain.

"They weren't nice ones," I supply.

"I can't picture you being mean," Aidan says.

I give him a skeptical look.

"You're not a mean person, Isabelle."

"I'm not a nice one either."

"Yes you are," Alex says, stealing a pea from Aidan's plate.

Aidan points at Alex. "He's the one who's not nice."

"I'm horrid," I tell them.

"Are you really arguing this," Alex asks me with a smirk.

"I'm not arguing. I'm just being honest. I can be very mean."

"Maybe to these people," Alex says gesturing around the cafeteria. "But they don't know you like we do."

"Icy Isabelle was just an act for the Games," Aidan comments.

I shake my head, standing up. "You guys don't know what you're talking about."

Alex and Aidan just shake their heads too as if I'm being silly and dramatic.

"The lack of food is going to your heads." I push my trey towards the center of the table. "Here, eat up."

I leave Aidan and Alex to fight over the rest of my dinner. I've lost my appetite. What are they talking about? Me? Nice? Did they not see me during the Games?

When I turn the corner into a hallway, I become aware of a presence behind me. Someone is following me.

I spin around fast. The sudden action seems to startle Gale. He looks surprised that he was caught. He was impressively silent with his steps.

"Hawthorne," I say.

"Valentine."

"Why are you following me?"

At first, he glares at me as if it's my fault that he got caught in the act, but then he sighs. "Look, about last time, when you helped Posy," he starts to say.

"Stop," I tell him, knowing where this conversation is going. "You don't have to say another word."

"I was just—"

"—going to thank me," I finish for him. "I know. And you don't have to. Yeah, I helped your siblings. They're little and they needed it. But that doesn't change anything between us."

Gale is quiet.

"You don't owe me anything," I tell him before turning and walking away.

My name is Isabelle Valentine, and I am not a nice person.


	11. Chapter 11

"Enobaria?"

My past mentor doesn't respond with words. Instead she grabs my hand forcefully. I try pulling away but she only grips my wrist tighter.

I am not really surprised that the female Victor with razor sharp teeth is here in Thirteen. She's always had a rebellious side that came with her vicious and aggressive character. It just startles me to see her walking down the hallway towards me. I hadn't heard any news of her recently.

She drags me through Thirteen, ignoring the looks the two of us together receive. She doesn't speak, even as she brings me into one of the training rooms already occupied.

This is not a beginner class. The people in this class are strong and well-built. They're training to be soldiers.

The sight of the fierce Enobaria dragging a reluctant Isabelle the Heartbreaker into the room has gained the attention of a majority of them, including Gale Hawthorne. He has a scowl on his face but this time it seems I'm not the main reason for it. If anything, he looks a little concerned, maybe even for my sake. He stands across from a confused Finnick Odair.

Enobaria tugs me once more, this time throwing me to the floor in the center of the room. When I look up at her, I am glaring. "What the f*** are you doing," I practically spit.

"You can stop with the attitude," she says.

"What attitude," I bite out.

"Isabelle, I was your mentor. I taught you how to be like that. You're not fooling me."

I just give her a hard stare.

"Coin made you an offer," she states.

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

"You declined."

"Yeah."

"That was stupid."

I move to get up and leave the room, but she kicks me back down. Hard. I pretty much growl at her.

"Oh, stop acting like a child."

The thing is, Enobaria and I actually get along pretty well, given the people we are. She's always been like a crazy aunt, the one you are forced to be around and sort of like but don't like at the same time. She helped me survive the Games. I have some respect for her somewhere deep down.

"You piss me off," she says.

Deep, _deep_ down.

I sigh. "What do you want, Enobaria?"

"You've always been different from the other kids from Two. When I met you, you were against the Games. You disliked fighting. But you still trained hard because you were a survivor. You wanted to live. Now, we're here in District Thirteen. You have a chance to take down the Capitol. Katniss Everdeen is fighting for all the things that you would. But you're sitting on your ass, doing nothing but being a brat."

"I've been training."

"With a class that's doing stuff that twelve year-old kids at the Academy do."

I glare at her, knowing she has a huge point.

She only raises an eyebrow at me. "You should stop with that act. There's no need to convince anyone here. The Games are over."

"You know they're really never over."

"True, but this isn't the Arena. It's a different game. You have to learn to play it."

I am quiet.

"You're not helping them or yourself."

"What?" I barely manage the word, knowing exactly what she's referring to.

"Do you think they'd be happy for you? Do you think they'd want you to be living this way?"

I don't respond.

"You're not doing him a favor either. Refusing to get along with Everdeen won't change anything. He's dead."

That's when I spring up from the floor, aiming a punch at her jaw.

She catches my fist, then pulls me forward. Her arms move to put me in a headlock but I elbow her in the stomach and step away from her before she can do that.

When I turn back to face her, she is already throwing a punch. I lean backward just enough to miss it. I barely regain my balance in time to shift my head left and dodge another punch.

Then it is my turn.

I send a kick to her stomach. She jumps back so that it doesn't really hurt her. It only causes her to stagger back a little.

You think I'd have an advantage with that last move, but the next two punches I throw don't land.

I keep sending them at her. It's not enough though. She keeps dodging them. I feel myself getting tired. I am slowing down.

Enobaria and I have similar fighting styles. We are of the same strength and build. We rely on our speed and agility. The only difference used to be her aggressiveness and my stamina.

That was before.

Now I can feel the toll that has been taken on my fighting for not having trained properly for the past few months.

Enobaria knows this. She lets me tire myself out and when I take a little too much time to take in a breath, she uses it to her advantage. My punch comes in a tad bit slow. Just enough time for her to turn away from me, grab my arm, and flip me over.

I hit the ground hard, the air getting completely knocked out of my lungs. I don't get a chance to catch my breath either. She flips me over onto my stomach and digs her knee into my lower back. One hand grabs my wrist to pull my arm behind me painfully. Her elbow puts pressure on the back of my neck.

"You're weak," she says in my ear. "Weaker than when you entered the Games."

I squirm as much as I can, but she holds my arm behind my back in a grip that makes moving only hurt me. I growl in frustration.

"You're acting just as reckless as he was," Enobaria says, pushing me into the floor harder. "Why do you think he didn't make it out? He was too forward, too arrogant with his actions."

Her words just make me struggle more. It proves useless though.

"What do you want Enobaria," I ask, frustrated and furious. My voice is loud. "Really? What do you want from me?! Why do this? In front of all these people?"

"If you want revenge against Snow, you're going to have to grow up and let things go. You're never going to beat the Capitol like this."


	12. Chapter 12

_I stand at the door unsure. _

_Do I enter or do I leave?_

_My hand hovers over the handle. _

_I know it'll be a defining moment. Once I walk through the door, all eyes will be on me. At that point, I wouldn't be able to go back. They would think I am scared._

_And I am scared. What if this is the wrong choice? What if they never accept me?_

_I back away from the door, prepared to walk out of this place, but then, my feet take only a few steps before stopping. _

_Leaving could be the wrong choice._

"_Are you going to go in?"_

_I spin around to see Blake. How long has he been standing there, watching my internal debate? I know he had noticed me jump slightly at the sound of his voice but he doesn't comment._

"_So are you going to go in," he asks again._

"_Um, yeah," I say, staring at the door._

"_You sure about that?"_

_I look at him. His voice has a deeper tone to it than usual. There is something weighty about his words. _

_I may not know Blake well but I don't think he is a malicious person. He doesn't display the same aggressiveness or encroaching interest in me as the other kids do. Right now, though, he watches me with a significant look in his usually neutral expression. There is the promise that what I face inside that room won't be easy. He wants to know that if I decide to walk through that door, I am prepared to stay with my choice. _

_It is this subtly challenging stare that helps me make my decision. _

_I want to be strong._

"_Yes," I say, my tone serious. "I'm sure."_

_I have to do this for myself. _

_Blake just nods._

_Without another word spoken between us, I push on the two doors to the training room with both hands. They fly open._

Standing in front of the room that Enobaria had dragged me into yesterday, I have the same uncertainty I had felt on my first day of officially joining the Alphas of the District Two Academy. Just like that time, I'm aware that I am about to enter a place where people won't welcome me.

Though, this time, there is no Blake to help with my decision.

I know I could have asked Alex or Aidan for assistance. But I've never done that. Asked for their help, that is. I don't want to bother them. I can do this on my own.

Without another thought, I walk into the training session.

No matter how subtle I try to make it, my entrance is very noticed. Not every person has stopped training to stare at me but some do. The room has definitely gotten quieter.

I cross my arms and stand casually off to the side, but really, I'm not really sure what to do next as I scan the room. I notice that, rather than fearful glances, most of the people in this room looking my way watch me either a hard stare or curiosity. I hide my relief at the realization that the students in this class are soldiers who won't be scared of someone like me, especially after what Enobaria had shown them.

A middle-aged woman starts to walk up to me from across the room.

When I avoid meeting the grey eyes staring at me, I end up locking gazes with Finnick Odair. He sends me a reassuring smile, which makes me more uncomfortable. We have never been close. Other than the events hosted by the Capitol for Victors, we don't interact. I am aware that both of us are pretty similar by acting in the past like we embraced the Capitol and our Victor status. I know he is not really the huge flirt that he has been on screen. But before I had only seen him as that. I didn't like his easy-going suaveness. At least Cato was honest about his brutality. At least he didn't trick you into trusting him.

That wasn't the only thing about him that bothered me though. Finnick and I had come from similar circumstances. He had been from a Career district. He had killed more kids than I in the Games. Yet, he wasn't treated the same. The Rebels saw him as strong and respectable while I was feared and disliked.

I turn away from Finnick. I know my feelings toward him come from jealousy and frustration. It really isn't his fault that people receive us differently. It is mine for carving Hadrian's heart out of his chest. But I can't help but remember the way the Victor from Four took out all his competitors in the Arena by skewering them with his trident and think that he was at just as much fault as I was. For him it had even seemed easier.

"Soldier Valentine," the woman addresses when she reaches me. "Coin said you'd be joining us today."

I hadn't spoke to Coin but I guess Enobaria did. My mentor had everything planned out to my chagrin. I never told her I had decided to train with the high level class. I wasn't even sure if I would walk through that door.

"I'm Jackson," the woman introduces. "I'm one of the soldiers in charge of this class."

I only nod at her once in acknowledgement.

"Though it's more of a training space than a class. The people in this session are skilled enough to not really need a teacher, so you're free to train as you need."

I nod again, pleased with the information. I like this setup.

"Being in this class also means you'll eventually gain access to weapons of your choice to carry around with you. But…" Jackson hesitates.

"But that requires a certain amount of trust," a hard voice cuts in.

I turn to the man who has joined our conversation. He has unruly black hair and appears to be a few years older than me. "And skill," he adds.

"Soldier Turner," Jackson addresses, eyeing the modern-looking military axe that he grips with his left hand. The weapon isn't raised. It hangs loosely at his side, but any weapon, especially one of that size, along with the dark look he gives me makes me cautious.

I remain calm on the outside but inside, I'm prepared to move if he starts swinging it at me. Once I get my hands on the training knives about ten feet away, I won't be at a disadvantage.

"She's joining our class," he asks seriously.

"Yes," Jackson replies.

The man, Soldier Turner, looks at me with a hard, cold expression before scoffing and turning away. Jackson watches him stalk away to a corner of the room then sighs tiredly.

"You're going to meet a lot of difficult people here," she comments, still staring at Turner as he throws the axe a training dummy. It hits pretty close to the heart and almost knocks over the entire target. If it had been a real person, the body would have fallen to the ground in a bloody mess.

"Not anything I'm not used to," I say honestly.

Jackson looks at me with a new interest. She does this for a little longer than I'd like to ignore before speaking, "Lyme recommended you to Coin. She told us a lot about you."

"Lyme didn't really know me. We weren't even friends."

"She was my friend," Jackson says. "I respected her a lot and I'll respect her opinion. You won't have to worry about me being like that."

I am a little startled by her statement, but I try my best not to show it. "So can I just start training," I ask looking around the room.

People lie all the time. Promises are easily broken. She can easily go back on her words. I'm not one to be trusted. It's just better not to get too attached. At least that way, no one gets let down.

"Actually, someone requested to be your training partner," she says, acknowledging someone past my shoulder. I turn around to see a guy around my age approaching us. I realize I recognize him. It's the soldier who took me to Coin's office and had tried to stop me when I left. "I'll leave you two to it," Jackson tells the guy and I before walking away.

We stand there looking at each other. It's purely analytical. He's taking a good look at me and I'm trying to figure out if he is okay with this set up or if he was ordered by Coin to do this. He breaks the silence first. "I'm Jet," he says.

"Isabelle," I reply neutrally. His tone was calm and casual, not upset with me for hurting his wrist during our last encounter. I wonder if he's a good actor.

"I know," he replies with a small smile. It's not smug or threatening, but polite and nice, which makes me a little more cautious. "So what do we want to start with," he asks, motioning to the equipment in the room.

"You don't have to do this," I state.

"What?"

"Train with me. If Coin forced you to, I'll tell her I don't need a partner."

It's not true. A training partner would be helpful. But I don't want him to be doing something against his will.

"No one is forcing me to. It was suggested that you have someone to train with and I volunteered," he tells me.

I don't ask why. I gave him an out and he didn't care for taking it so he might have his reasons but they're not my concern if he's okay with training with me. Also, if it turns out he dislikes me and wants payback, I'll just be careful and worry about that road when I go down it. I'm no stranger to people wanting to kill me in training. I've fought against many potential and actual Careers. They don't play nice. "What weapons are you used to," I ask, leaving the previous conversation in the past.

"I've trained with pretty much all of them back at Four. I was in the Academy," he replies, going along with my change of subject.

"Then how about the bo staffs," I say, pointing at one of the training racks. I had already guessed Jet's district because of his sea green eyes, a trademark of Four, and his build. I can't help but evaluate people when I meet them. It's a habit that came from years of training to know your opponent, their strengths and weaknesses, so you could survive in the Arena. Jet's build is similar to Finnick's, sculpted and athletic. It comes from an active District Four life, swimming and spearing fish. Wielding a bo staff would be easy after tridents and spears.

Jet nods, impressed with my choice.

Bo staffs are good for combat fighting and effective for training. The Academy had us train with them when we were younger. They helped us with strength, speed, and technique. I was ready to start from the bottom and climb my way up. As Enobaria had reminded me painfully, I needed to get stronger.

"Let's do this," Jet says.


	13. Chapter 13

I am walking to my unit when something stops me in my tracks. I hear something that doesn't belong in the hallways of the hospital sector. I pause, listening for the noise again, and think I hear a meow. When I take a step back and peer into the corridor where the sound came from, my suspicious are proved correct. There is a cat sitting in the corner.

I walk up to it quietly.

The cat isn't pretty but it is lucky. Coin doesn't seem like the type of person to allow pets in her district. I'm surprised I'm the only person here that had noticed it. But then again, most people are still at dinner.

When I reach down to pick it up, it hisses at me, shooting its paw out. "Hey," I say, practically hissing back. He scratched my hand.

"What's going on over here?"

I don't really think about my actions as I turn around, plant my butt on the ground, and scoot close to the corner all at once. When I look up, I see Thom, the person who had spoken. The cat is hidden from view, trapped between the walls and my back. I don't think Thom was close enough to see the animal. He looks at me suspiciously.

"Isabelle?"

Behind Thom is Gale Hawthorne. I don't know what startles me the most. Is it that I had not noticed another person until I heard his voice, that Gale decided to address me by my first name, or that this is all happening?

I go with the last one. I am trying to save an ungrateful animal that is currently squirming around behind me while I face two men literally staring down at me.

"What are you doing," Gale asks. I ignore the fact that he doesn't look at me with his usual scowl or cautious eyes. I'm too flustered by the hissing noise that the cat is starting to make.

"Nothing," I blurt out. "I'm doing nothing."

Now Gale is looking at me suspiciously too. Though his expression is not distrusting like Thom's, just extremely doubtful.

"You're on the ground," he comments.

"I'm sitting," I say simply. Then I have to speak again, but this time louder, because silence will allow the boys to hear the cat that is still complaining. "I wanted to sit!"

"So I sat…" I finish, cringing on the inside.

The boys exchange confused looks. Thom seems less suspicious and more unsure.

Probably about my mental health.

"Why here," Thom asks, distrust evident in his voice.

"It was the best place," I respond immediately without thinking. The cat has suddenly calmed down. His quietness makes me more nervous.

"Why?" Thom questions.

_Why?_ "Because I fell."

"You fell," Gale repeats.

Maybe later I will look back at my answers with mortification, but right now, I am too anxious for them to go to feel embarrassed.

"Yeah," I say louder than necessary. "I fell."

"Are you okay," he asks.

"Yeah." _When will they leave?_

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

It is silent between the three of us.

_Please leave. Please leave. Please leave._ I chant in my head.

"Well, we're going to go," Thom says, already taking a step away.

I nod eagerly at his words and have to slow my movements to seem calm rather than suspicious.

Thom starts to walk away but pauses. "Gale, c'mon."

I realize Gale hasn't moved. He just stares at me intently. His grey eyes flicker down to the corner behind me, which makes me fidget a bit. He notices the gesture.

"Gale."

Gale looks at my face one last time before turning around.

They are only a few steps away and I have barely started to mentally sigh in relief when I feel a sharp pain across my back. "Ow," I voice loudly, angry at the cat. He just clawed me.

The guys spin around at my cry of pain. _Stupid Isabelle_, I chide myself.

"Okay, what's really going on here?" Thom's voice is hard and very suspicious.

"Nothing," I say. "I hurt my hand when I fell and it started to—_OW_!"

"What do you have behind you?"

I'm about to answer Gale's question when the cat pretty much howls in fury. All pairs of human eyes go wide for different reasons. Thom looks startled. I'm thinking that I've just been caught and cats shouldn't be able to howl. I can't quite understand Gale's reaction. At first he looks surprised but then he's not. He isn't angry either.

Before I can make sense of Gale's reaction, Thom is stepping towards me. "Okay, what are you hiding here?"

"Thom—" Gale starts to say.

But then I am pulled up harshly by the arm and away from the corner.

The cat looks up at all of us, hissing. Its fur stands up on his neck. It glares at me in particular.

I glare back at the cat, but I'm too tired to hold the look for longer than a second. "I was trying to help you," I tell it.

I receive an annoyed sound in response.

"What the—" Thom looks mystified. He probably thought I was hiding a weapon more dangerous than a mean house cat.

I turn to Gale to see his reaction. He doesn't face me. His back is to both Thom and I as he leans against the wall with one arm. His other arm covers his face and his shoulders are shaking.

He didn't seem mad earlier. "Hawthor—"

"HAAHAHA."

Thom and I both step away in surprise.

(BREAK)

Gale leans against the wall in the corner of the room, watching me with an amused expression. Occasionally, he smiles like an idiot too. I just ignore him, sitting moodily on the examining table as Primrose Everdeen tends to the scratches on my back.

It turns out that the cat I had found is named Buttercup and belongs to Katniss' younger sister. He wasn't supposed to be wandering around the hallways of Thirteen but must have escaped from the Everdeen's unit in search of his owner. After Gale had finished laughing at me, he had gotten Primrose, who seemed to be the only person the cat behaved with, and helped her smuggle the beast into the hospital room that the four of us now occupy. After his initial shock at Gale's reaction, Thom left us, not without shooting me a doubtful and distrustful look.

Gale lets out a small chuckle, failing to hold back a laugh. I don't think he's trying very hard to contain his amusement. It's been about the twentieth time.

"Gale," Primrose scolds but half-heartedly, fighting the smile playing on her lips. I know she is also amused but also too polite to offend me.

But Gale isn't too polite. He loses his restraint and actually laughs. I stare at the ground, scowling harder. Prim pauses in her applying medicine to my lower back.

"Gale," she says, more seriously this time.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, pushing the laugh back. He smiles. "But you have to admit this is all really funny."

I jump off the table before she can reply to her cousin. "Wait, I'm not done," she tells me.

"It's just a few scratches, I'll be fine." I say as politely as possible to her before turning to leave the room, something I should have done in the first place.

I don't even make it a step. Gale is in front of me, not leaning against the wall as I thought he still was. "Woah," he says. His proximity causes me to take a step back and then a few more when he moves forward, effectively herding me back to the examining table. "Let Prim help you. After all, it was her cat that hurt you."

"They're just scratches," I say.

"I'll be quick finishing up. I promise," Primrose says. She doesn't mean to but she has a look in her eyes that make it really hard to say no. Being icy Isabelle to a girl as sweet as her is difficult.

"She'll feel really guilty otherwise," Gale says, causing me to turn my head slightly and look up at him. "You wouldn't want that, right?"

I just glare at him and the smile on his lips, disliking that he knows I can't decline without feeling bad.

This just makes him smile more, the smug son of a gun.

I already know I've given in though so after a few more seconds of glaring, I sigh. "Fine."

But not even the big smile on Primrose Everdeen's face as she continues fixing my back up makes me feel fine or happy with myself. Here I am sitting in a room with and being smiled at by the sister and cousin of the Mockingjay. I should be hating it all. I'm not though.

And that leaves me with an even harder feeling than hatred for me to cope with.


	14. Chapter 14

"_What are you thinking," Blake asks._

_"I don't want to like any of them," I reply. The other Careers have been nothing but nice to us since they decided we should be entrusted with leading the group. "Especially Hadrian," I add, thinking of the boy from One who keeps winking and smiling at me._

_Blake agrees without looking at me. He nods._

_"But I do," I say quieter. I look at my district partner, wanting to see his reaction. I know Cato is scowling at me if he has heard this._

_Blake only glances at me. It last a few short seconds, then he focuses on the water again. "Yeah," he says, nodding. "Me too." He sounds reluctant and slightly worried._

_I wonder if this is the main reason girls are attracted to Blake. Alex can be cold, Cato can be scary, and Aidan just laughs with anyone. Blake is sincere._

He was good.

_I'm no longer looking at Blake's side profile. I am looking into his eyes. Mine are wide open. His are dead and empty. They are no longer thoughtful. They stare at nothing. _

He didn't deserve to die_, I hear a voice spit at me. _

I wake up, sweat covering my skin and my heart pounding. I shut my eyes and place my hands over them, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

I know that voice in my dream. Deep down, even my conscious knows how undeserving I am.

I land on the mat with an inelegant grunt. It's a huge wake up call. I've been spacing out all day. A hand is offered but I get up on my own.

"Are you okay," Jet asks, not offended that I ignored his help. "It seems like your mind was somewhere else this match."

"Yeah," I say, responding to his first question. "Let's go again."

"Are you sure?"

I just nod.

Jet and I have been training almost every day together since a couple of weeks ago when we officially met. He seems like a nice guy. He seems to get along with the others in our session, even the quiet Soldier Turner. I'm glad he doesn't take my quietness personally. Though he sometimes tells me stuff about him, he doesn't expect a conversation from me and most of our training is done in comfortable silence. I'm just not here to make friends. I want to get stronger so I can beat Snow.

For the first week, Jet would always wipe the floor with me. He wasn't brutal about it like Enobaria had been or most of my past training partners would have been, but he didn't slack off either. The people in our class were good soldiers and it seemed that he ranked near the top. I wouldn't have been surprised if he was an Alpha or a Beta when he was at the Academy. It used to make me question why he offered to train with someone like me. Though, now that I had improved, there was really no reason to complain. Jet and I had only been training together in staff matches but they had been helping with everything else too. I was back in shape and I felt more like myself now that my body was toned and strong again rather than frail and fragile.

I sweep Jet's feet out from under him with the staff. Even on his back he raises his weapon up to defend himself. I knock it out of his hands with mine. Then, I point the end of the long metal weapon near his throat.

Jet just grins up at me.

Recently, I had been beating him in our matches more than losing. It surprised me how well he took it since most boys from the Career districts had hated losing to someone like me. I was a respectful opponent, but it still hurt the pride of the boys from my district to lose to a girl. I had gained respect, admiration, and envy for that. Cato had always held pride for me. It helped that he was one of the boys that I could never beat. The thing is Cato never lost a match at the Academy. He had ranked highest in our Alpha class for a reason.

I take my time putting the staff back on one of the weapon's shelves. I don't want others, including my training partner, to see how strung up I actually am. I've had nightmares since the Capitol and they've only gotten worse. I've been losing sleep and no matter how much I try not to, my mind jumps to Cato, Clove, Blake, and other people I don't want to think of here.

I don't like thinking about them and the nightmares. I don't like that I've been spacing out and its been causing me to lose my focus and matches.

"Hey Finnick," I hear Jet say.

"Jet," Finnick Odair greets. "Hey Isabelle."

What does he want with me? I know Jet and Finnick have known each other from before the Rebellion started since they are from the same district. My training partner holds a lot of respect for the Victor. But Finnick hasn't even tried interacting me with since I joined the session a couple of weeks ago. I cover up my questioning look when I turn around to face them. "Odair," I say neutrally, addressing him the way I always had when we saw each other at Victor banquets and parties. It had helped keep a distance between us, something I hoped it still would do.

I have to hide a reaction when I notice Gale standing there too. I shouldn't be surprised, seeing as Finnick and him usually train together. I thought I would have at least heard his steps too though.

"Valentine," Gale says. His tone is friendly and teasing. He even grins at me, something he's been doing a lot lately. Ever since the incident with Primrose's cat a few days ago, he's been acting really nice to me. Too nice.

"Hawthorne," I respond icily. I try to scare him away by showing my dislike but it never affects him. He continues to greet me with a smile, which always just makes me scowl at him.

_"What else are you thinking," he asks._

_"What?" _

_Blake glances at me again. "You're still an open book. You might have most of Panem convinced with that icy Victor persona, but I can see there's something else on your mind."_

"Isabelle?"

I look at Jet, who looks at me concerned. He's not the only one. I realize that I have just spaced out while Finnick was talking to me. He and Gale are also looking at me.

_I'm silent. I thought I had been doing well at hiding it._

_"Tell me. You know you can trust me."_

"Uh," I start to form a response while also trying to shake the memory. I am aware that I am standing in Thirteen in front of Jet, Finnick, and Gale, but a part of me is also not there, back in the Arena with Blake.

"Isabelle?"

"Jet, give her a second," Finnick says.

"Isabelle." This time it's not Jet calling my name. A hand goes on my shoulder and suddenly I am fully present in the training room, looking directly into grey eyes.

I back away from Gale immediately. He puts down his hand, unfazed by my reaction to his proximity, and asks, "You okay?"

I nod.

"You've been zoning out all day today," Jet comments.

I'm about to explain but hesitate. What can I say? Yeah, I've been having nightmares since I got here and they've gotten worse. Now they haunt me when I'm awake too.

"You don't have to explain," Finnick tells me. "It happens with Annie too."

"What were you saying," I finally manage. I don't like having them stare at me. I didn't want to see their sympathy or concern. Though I am a little grateful when Finnick goes along with my moving on.

"I was actually talking about Annie. I wanted to thank you. She told me you helped her in the Capitol."

I raise an eyebrow, confused. "Annie? You mean Annie Cresta?"

"Yeah," Finnick says.

"Annie was in the Capitol prison?"

Finnick suddenly looks hesitant and a little cautious. "She told me you talked with her and kept attention away from her."

"I don't remember Annie being there."

Now both Finnick and I are a little alarmed.

"Maybe she confused me with someone else," I say.

"No. I even asked her more than once. She's certain it was you."

Annie Cresta is not known for stability or sanity, but with the way Finnick speaks about her, I even trust Annie's belief.

But how?

"Maybe you just didn't remember," Finnick offers. "There was probably too much already going on. You could have been semi-conscious the entire time. Gale did say he found you and you seemed pretty gone."

I look at Gale who stares back at me with an unreadable expression. He doesn't deny Finnick's description but he doesn't confirm it either.

"Yeah," I say as certainly as I can muster.

But I'm still alarmed. Now that I think about it, how is it that I can remember all the bad things in the Capitol—the painful interrogation sessions, the awful conversations with Coin, the dark prison cell—but nothing else?


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I'm sorry it takes me so long to update. Thank you to those who read/review/follow this story ;) I appreciate it.**

Should I be worried? Should I remember more?

Those are the questions that have been going through my mind since hearing that I had spoken to Annie in the Capitol prison. Ever since that conversation with Finnick, I realize that I can't remember parts of the month or so that I was locked up. Maybe there was nothing really to remember? But what about the conversations with Annie that I couldn't recollect?

I had been going back and forth on being concerned and being grateful for the possibility of losing any memories.

Now, standing in the hospital sector, I'm leaning more towards grateful. Maybe they're memories I'd rather forget. Who am I supposed to tell anyway? And how would they even help? Back when he was alive, my father would have been the person I went to. He was a doctor. Now, I didn't have anyone I could trust to help me.

I'd been having nightmares. I was losing sleep and I was high strung most of the time. My spacing out didn't help either. They'd link it some psychological problem of memory loss or repression and then they'd stick me with a psychiatrist, somebody to talk to about feelings and other things I didn't want to share.

No thanks. I'm out of here.

Telling myself I am making the right choice, I'm caught off guard completely when an arm wraps around my waist and a hand covers my mouth. My body is pulled into a dark corridor.

I'm pushed harshly against a wall, the person's hands pinning me against it. Just as I am about to retaliate, the person speaks. "Bella," he teases, his voice making my blood run cold and all of my actions freeze.

_I walk away from the graveyard. Their names have each been marked twice there, once on separate tombstones and now, another time on the Wall with the rest of the Fallen. No one noticed me leave the ceremony. Maybe Alex did, but I don't have to worry about him coming after me. It's not his style and he knows I need to be alone right now._

_Walking through the graveyard brings up a memory. Last year, after two more names had been etched onto the stone Wall, I had done the same thing, slipped away as the rest of the district silently revered or mourned. I had needed to get out of there. The names of the deceased District Two tributes from the 73th Hunger Games had been painfully new on the Wall but it was the name before theirs that had stung the most. Blake Ducane. It had been a little over a year since his death and still the thought of him hurt like a fresh cut. No, more than any flesh wound. It had suffocated me and made my heart wrench and crumble. I knew that getting put on the Wall was seen as an honor but it had frustrated me to see his name up there. He deserved more. And then, when two more names had been put up, he became just a name of last year to the rest of the District. _

_Cato had found me that time and comforted me in his silent, brooding way. He had followed me out of the crowd soundlessly. My black heels, which I wore out of respect for the ceremony had sunk into the grass, making it difficult for me to walk fast. Just as I was about to throw them in uncharacteristic frustration, he had been there. He was in a black suit that he had been forced to wear. His tie was loose, something that I had not cared to fix that time. His hair was the way it usually was; he hadn't seen a reason to wear hair gel to a ceremony that didn't honor his friend. He had—_

_STOP._

_Just stop, I tell myself. I have to wipe away tears that have formed at the memory of Cato. It's just another reminder that he's not here._

_Cato. Clove. They've joined the Fallen and they're not coming back._

_I'm so caught up in my memories and emotions that I don't notice that someone did follow me out of the ceremony. _

_My reaction is slow. When I turn to aim a hit at his throat, he just restrains my arms before pushing me against the nearest tree. His hand goes around my neck, cutting of my air, and he leans in, "Cato's not around anymore to save you."_

"You look surprised to see me," he says and I can picture his smirking down at me in the darkness.

I hadn't heard about him being in Thirteen. I figured he had joined the Capitol or died at the Battle of Two.

I had really hoped so.

"Mason," I say as bravely and calmly as I can once the initial shock has gone away.

"It's been a while."

He can't hurt me here. We're in Thirteen. If he does something, people will start asking questions and he'll get in trouble. These are the words I tell myself for some way to push down the fear.

But then Mason leans down. He's so close that I can feel his breath on my ear. "Don't think that you're safe just because we're here in this place."

Then he releases me and walks away.

I give myself a few seconds.

My legs threaten to give out but I don't allow them to. Just like every other time this has happened, I compose myself then continue on with the rest of my day, acting like nothing has happened.

* * *

_I look over the lake. There are always noises in the Arena coming from the creatures that live in the rainforest whether it's the bugs, which are probably venomous, and the animals, which definitely have a taste for human flesh._

_Other than the waterfall that crashes into it in the distance, the lake is calm though._

_And it is probably the most dangerous part of the Arena._

_I don't want to know what Capitol abominations swim in it. I picture a large worm with the mouth the size of a cavern. The idea of being in the center of the lake and suddenly getting swallowed whole, the worm engulfing me from below and rows of teeth surrounding me, stops me from taking another step toward the shore._

_"What are you thinking?"_

_My head turns slightly to the right as I look at Blake whose gaze is on the body of water in front of us. _

_His black hair only compliments the blue eyes that make him so attractive to other girls. They are thoughtful, always analyzing and planning. He even chose this spot by the waterfall so that no one in the arena can hear our conversations. I doubt even the Capitol is able to broadcast our whispers over the crashing sound of the waterfall. I have always known Blake is good-looking, but his eyes are the wrong shade of blue for me. I miss the bright blue orbs of another boy back home. The boy who doesn't take crap from anyone and won't hold back his temper to impress a girl. The one who, if you haven't gained his respect, won't act like you have. He is straightforward, brutal, and dangerous._

_The boy who girls want to love but don't know how. _

_I know he is watching us right now. There are cameras everywhere, probably zooming in on my face. I make sure to keep my expression neutral. I wonder if he knows that I am thinking about him at this moment._

_"I don't want to like any of them," I reply. The other Careers have been nothing but nice to us since they decided we should be entrusted with leading the group. "Especially Hadrian," I add, thinking of the boy from One who keeps winking and smiling at me._

_Blake agrees without looking at me. He nods._

_"But I do," I say quieter. I look at my district partner, wanting to see his reaction. I know Cato is scowling at me if he has heard this._

_Blake only glances at me. It last a few short seconds, then he focuses on the water again. "Yeah," he says, nodding. "Me too." He sounds reluctant and worried._

_I wonder if this is the main reason girls are attracted to Blake. Alex can be cold, Cato can be scary, and Aidan can laugh with anyone. Blake is sincere._

_"What else are you thinking," he asks._

_"What?"_

_Blake glances at me again. "You're still an open book. You might have most of Panem convinced with that icy Victor persona, but I can see there's something else on your mind."_

_I'm silent. I thought I had been doing well at hiding it._

_"Tell me. You know you can trust me."_

_"I'm scared." I say it to the lake more than him but I know has heard me. He turns to me, not just glances, and studies me. My eyes are on the waterfall but I can see him analyzing me._

_"Yeah. Me too, Isabelle. Me too," he finally says. "But do you want to know something?"_

_I nod silently._

_"Look at me."_

_I turn to him and he is smiling down at me._

_I know that this is the main reason girls are attracted to Blake. His smile which is more of a grin. It is a flash of white teeth, bright and genuine._

_I know I will remember it._

_"I got your back. And I know you have mine."_

_Then I hear screams. They belong to Blake and I but both of us stand there not saying a word. Blake is still looking at me with so much certainty and faith in his eyes. This is not part of our conversation. Another memory is colliding with this one. And suddenly I am not looking at Blake's smile. I am on my back, looking up at the sky. _

_I turn my head to the right and see Blake who is on the ground as well. We are not at the lake anymore, but near the Cornucopia. He is yelling in pain as Hadrian carves through his chest. My throat hurts and tears are streaming down my face. I have been screaming and crying. And I can't stop. It hasn't stopped. They keep torturing Blake and all I can do is watch. There is so much blood. Blake's blood. I try to get up but I am being pinned down to the ground. I struggle against the force but I can't move. I scream and cry more. I beg for them to stop. But they don't. They won't listen to me. No one does._

I wake up screaming.

* * *

I am walking through the hallways of Thirteen. My pace is quick, my movement aggressive. People are pretty much clearing a path for me, staying out of my way. Good. I don't have the energy to worry about them and their feelings. Right now, I just care about getting to my destination.

Somewhere through my thoughts, I realize that my destination is the training room. I need to get on a punching bag or better yet, I need to get my hands on some knives. My stride grows even more, not quite jogging but not walking either.

I'm not giving people enough time to clear a path and end up running right into a guy's shoulder. The impact causes both of us to lose our balance a little but neither of us actually falls.

"Sorry," I say quickly. I have to keep moving. I need to get my hands on those knives.

"_Don't think you're safe just because we're here."_

"It's fine. Just be—Isabelle?"

At the sound of his voice and my name, I actually look up and realize whom I've bumped into.

"Hawthorne," I say. Somewhere in my antsy thoughts I recognize that my tone isn't icy as it should be when I say his name but I'm too strung up to care.

"_Tell me. You know you can trust me."_

By the way he looks at me, Gale has noticed the change in my demeanor too. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say, looking anywhere but at him. I feel like if he gets a good look at me, he'll see that things are not okay, that something is very wrong with my mind right now. Mason, the looks of distrust, the nightmares…

_He is yelling in pain as Hadrian carves through his chest._

They've all driven me to this state.

As I avoid eye contact with Gale, I am able to register the people behind him. I see Thom and a group of his other friends. They must have been walking with Gale and now they have stopped with him to look at me.

_Stone-cold._

I even notice Talia, the girl who confronted me my first week in Thirteen. She looks at me suspiciously.

_Ruthless._

In fact, most of the people in the hall have stopped to watch me with cautious eyes.

_Violent._

They treat me like I'm an animal that's about to pounce at any moment and for once, I find myself unable to not care. Their gazes are suffocating me.

_Stone-cold. _

_Ruthless._

_Violent._

_Bloodthirsty._

_Bit—_

"Hey."

I look up and see grey eyes looking down at me with concern. Not with anger, suspicion, or disdain. Gale stands in front of me, so close that he is blocking everyone else from my view.

"Let me take you somewhere," he says.

And because I'm so tired of it all—the nightmares, the staring, the acting like some ice princess, and the whispering going on inside and out of my head—I find myself nodding silently and agreeing to anything but the crowded hallway.


	16. Chapter 16

Gale and I are looking up at the sky. District Thirteen lies beneath us silently. It's something I am grateful for. The silence, I mean.

When Gale had suggested taking me somewhere, I hadn't imagined this. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised that he has the privilege to go outside. And after months of being limited to the underground Capitol prison or the underground Rebel base, it really is a privilege to be able to look at the sky and breath in natural air.

I turn my head to the side and risk a glance at Gale. His eyes are closed but I know he's not sleeping. He's too cautious to do something like that. But he does look sort of relaxed, more than I've ever seen him before. His arms are stretched up behind his head and he's not as tense around me as he used to be.

I turn my head back to facing the sky.

I feel that I should thank him for taking me here and letting me enjoy this place. He hadn't asked any questions since he brought me here. He hadn't even spoken a word. I knew he was allowing me to clear my thoughts.

And it had worked.

The awful suffocating feeling was gone when we had left the crowded underground with its bright white hallways and uniform grey clothing.

We were very close to the entrance back to Thirteen and the ground I laid on was not grassy green and comfortable, but I felt relaxed and calm for once.

I peek a glance at Gale again. I know he has taken a huge risk by letting me outside with him. Coin would suspend his privileges if she found out. He hadn't needed to help me.

A slight breeze touches my face. I look at the sky. It is a nice blue. Looking at it, I am able to find the words I'm about to say. I suck in a deep breath of fresh air and release it slowly and quietly, taking my time.

"I didn't think I'd win."

I don't look at him after breaking the silence but somehow I know Gale has opened his eyes when finally speaks. "What?"

"The Games. I didn't expect to make it out of the Arena."

"I thought Blake would win," I finish.

"Your district partner," Gale says.

Watching the Games is mandatory for every district and mine didn't happen too long ago so I'm not surprised that Gale recalls who Blake is.

I nod, knowing he can hear the action. "Were you close?"

"We were friends. We were in the same group at the Academy so we practically grew up together."

Gale absorbs this in silence before he speaks again. "What was he like?"

"Thoughtful. Careful with his words and secretly looking out for his teammates and his brother, _especially _his brother. He really cared for him. And he was smart. He always had a plan."

_He didn't deserve to die._

"When the other Careers turned on us then killed him, I lost it." I hear Gale turn his head and I don't have to see him to know that he is looking at me from the side. My voice is distant as I continue to speak. "I wanted revenge. I wanted them to suffer like he had. I was _so _mad. He hadn't deserved to die like that. He hadn't deserved to die at all but they killed him in the most awful way."

_There was so much blood. Blake's blood._

I swallow, trying to force down the image. "So I cut out Hadrian's heart from his chest just as he had carved open Blake's. And suddenly I was being announced as the Victor."

There's a long pause and I wonder if I've just scared off Gale or made him angry and given him more reasons to dislike me. I actually hadn't been planning to tell him so much. I mean, I'd never really talked about it with anyone. Not even Aidan or Alex. The words had just flowed out without me really realizing until they were already there in the open.

God, what had I just done?

What had I just said?

It might have sounded like I was trying to justify my actions or saying that it was okay for me to have killed Hadrian in such a way.

I'm debating whether or not I should look at Gale to see his reaction when I hear his voice.

It surprises me so much that, my previous debate forgotten, I turn my head to see his looking straight at me. "What," I ask, my voice quiet and startled.

It's not that I hadn't heard his question but that no one has asked me it before.

"Do you regret it," he repeats. "Killing Hadrian and the other tributes."

Do I regret it?

Gale watches my response. I don't know what he wants or expects to hear but the best I can give him is an honest answer.

If only I actually knew it. I had never thought about it before.

Do I regret killing those tributes?

"No," I find myself saying, my blue eyes meeting his grey ones. "No, I'm not proud of my actions but I definitely don't regret them."

Gale stares at me with an expression that gives away nothing, neither approval nor dislike. It feels like a very long time before he, to my surprise, says, "Good." He turns away and nods to himself. "Yeah, I would have done the same."

"It's kill or be killed." The Career mantra sounds distant on my tongue.

It really is an awful truth in the Arena. In our world.

Gale looks at me.

"What," I ask. If I look closely into his grey eyes, I almost notice a hint of emotion that I can't quite understand.

It's barely there and Gale doesn't give me time to analyze it as the next four words come out of his mouth. "We should be friends."

"What," I say a little startled and confused. I'm sitting up now.

"We should be friends," Gale repeats casually, starting to sit up from the ground. "Officially."

"Friends," I repeat slowly. "You want to be friends. With me."

"Yeah," Gale says with the same smile that has annoyed me the past week.

"Haven't you heard the people here talk? You know what they call me, right?"

"I don't like listening to gossip," he says, his smile gone. "It…doesn't tend to be true."

Part of me cues into the slightly pained tone of Gale's voice when he makes that last statement and another part of me remembers that, in my case, what the people talk about is very true. I had ripped that boy's heart out and the world could attest to it after seeing it on national TV.

I am Isabelle the Heartbreaker.

Gale snaps out of his trance first. He takes me away from my previous thoughts by holding out his hand. "Let's start over," he says. "I'm Gale. Gale Hawthorne."

I stare down at his hand as many thoughts go through my mind.

He blew up the Nut. He's the cousin of Katniss Everdeen.

Those are two big negatives for me, two huge reasons why I shouldn't become friends with Gale.

We had different goals.

Keyword: _had_.

You need to grow up. You need to learn to let things go. That's what Enobaria had told me.

Maybe this was another step to what my mentor was talking about.

I hadn't forgotten that Gale was the one to blow up the Nut; I would never condone his actions. But now, we both wanted the same thing: for the Capitol to fall, Snow along with it.

There wasn't a reason for me to be so antagonistic with him.

From someone else's point of view, someone more neutral, Gale really wasn't a bad person at all. If anything, I was, and I knew it. He had at least been nice to me when all I did was push him away. He had even gone out of his way to help me.

And it was clear that I was going to need as much help and as many allies as possible in Thirteen. Not just for my own survival but my own sanity.

Admitting and knowing this, I only take a few seconds to respond to Gale's hand by lifting my own. "Isabelle," I say, shaking his strong hand firmly. "Isabelle Valentine."

And for some reason, a small part of me feels something I haven't felt for a while.

It's not hope but it's pretty close.


	17. Chapter 17

Jet knocks Gale's staff out of his hands with a strong blow. As he goes in for the final move, Gale reacts fast, ducking and dodging a horizontal swing aimed for his neck.

Jet recovers fast, quickly making another move that Gale dodges again.

They keep going at it. Jet swiftly striking with the staff in his hands while Gale skillfully avoids each attack. Both of their movements are quick and elegant. Gale is fast on his feet and Jet is used to moving with the staff.

Neither of them is out of breath. Both make it look so simple.

But really, both are so focused. When it comes to speed, Gale and Jet are rather similar. They're both really fast.

It'll only take a wrong move from one for the other to have an advantage.

And suddenly it looks like Jet has one. He brings the staff down fast, still in control and prepared to stop his momentum if he actually manages to hit Gale.

But Gale dodges the move and the staff almost hits the floor right next to him rather than his shoulder.

And the tables turn again. Because as Gale reacts by placing his foot down on the staff and effectively holding it in place, I realize he had it all planned out. Barely dodging Jet's previous attack hadn't been a mistake but an intention.

While both are pretty evenly matched in speed, Gale knew Jet would realistically win the match if they continued with the same pattern, Jet on the offense and Gale on the defense. He had to make use of his advantage over Jet: strength.

Looking at their builds and analyzing previous matches they've had with other people, I'd say Jet would win in a battle of speed against Gale, not by a large margin though. He is slightly smaller than Gale. Both guys are muscular, but Jet seems younger, more boyish than Gale was. Jet is also more experienced in fighting with weapons or in hand-to-hand combat, having gone through years of Academy training.

But there is definitely no underestimating Gale Hawthorne. I honestly was impressed. Gale doesn't look like other guys from 12. Then again, my knowledge of guys from 12 extends to the young tributes I had seen in the Games and Gale is definitely more a man than a boy. But even the ones I have noticed in Thirteen are not like Hawthorne. If he had been in the Games, I would have been weary of him.

He is tall with broad shoulders. He isn't as built as Cato had been but he still looks strong with lean muscle. He is also smart and strategic, as I have learned from training with him for the past few weeks.

I wonder for a second which of the two guys would win in an actual fight and immediately come up with an answer. I almost smile, looking at everybody else in the room as they watch the match in silence and wait to see the winner.

Too bad they won't see the results of this fight.

"Hawthorne," I say. My voice isn't icy this time but actually a little playful.

Gale looks in my direction and his eyes widen slightly in surprise.

I just smirk back. I have the attention of the entire training room, including Jet who starts grinning after a quick moment of shock.

Finnick Odair lies on the ground, his stomach touching the matted floor and his weapon lying next to him. My staff hovers over the back of his head.

Jet and I had won this sparring match a long time ago. Gale and Jet had been too focused on each other to notice though.

Gale sighs and bows his head slightly in defeat, a smile playing on his lips. "Are you serious, Finnick?"

"Yeah yeah, I should have been more careful. She's improved fast, okay? Can I get up now," Finnick responds also with a smile in his voice.

I move the staff away from him as Jet laughs at Finnick, drops his weapon to the ground, and jogs over to me, putting his hand up for a high five.

I respond and a single clap sounds in the room.

"Nice," Jet says.

I nod as a thank you.

"Don't get too cocky, Valentine," Finnick teases as Gale helps him up. "I'll get you next time."

"You're on," my sparring partner responds for the two of us.

"Shut up, Jet," Finnick says. "I didn't see you winning a match."

"Yeah, we wanted to see the rest of that. But you had to interrupt, Isabelle."

I have to mask my surprise as I look over at the person who spoke. It is Soldier Colins, a young man from District Thirteen that I only know the name of because he is on good terms with Finnick and Gale. We've never had an actual conversation and I'm a little startled that he's talking directly to me, especially with such a cordial tone. He had even used my first name.

Luckily I don't have to come up with a response because Gale speaks, grabbing the attention of anyone whose still listening.

"We all knew who the winner was." His tone is joking but once everyone else laughs it off and goes on with their training, he casually sends me a knowing smile and look.

I'm pretty certain that Gale would have won that match in the end and he is aware of this. I'm about to respond to his look when I feel the atmosphere of the room change.

It has suddenly got quieter again. I look at Gale to see him staring at something over my shoulder.

In fact, the whole room is focused on that part of the room.

I turn to see that Jackson has walked through the door with my old mentor. Following silently behind them are Alex and Aidan.

What are they doing here?

Alex's usually stoic expression is particularly cold and I can tell he is surveying the room, accessing the people and his situation, as I would have done. Aidan's eyes search the room and when they land on me, he flashes a smile then elbows Alex who just nods in greeting.

I send them a questioning look but before I can get a response, they have stopped in the center of the training room.

"Starting today, these two men will be joining us. Coin expects you all to welcome them as you did Soldier Valentine," Jackson announces.

My first reaction is to be excited about the idea of training with Aidan and Alex again. But those feelings are short-lived because I know the others in the room aren't as happy about the news. They are all on edge, looking at my two friends with the same uncertainty they showed me when I walked in a few weeks ago.

It's not that I've been completely accepted but there hadn't been this much tension for a while.

My second reaction is to wonder why Coin allowed this. Why cause trouble in the training room? Why Aidan and Alex of all the kids from Two? Why my closest friends?

My third thought has me speaking up.

"Then what is she doing here," I ask Jackson, referring to my past mentor.

Enobaria smiles at me. "Sour about our last match, Izzy?"

I give her an uninterested look.

"Oh stop with the bitch act," she comments.

"But I learned it from the best," I respond dully, causing Alex to snort.

Enobaria just responds by smacking him up the backside of his head. Hard.

Alex holds in any sound of pain. He just bows his head down slightly so his blond hair covers his face as he clutches the spot she hit him.

Enobaria glares at him. "Brat."

Alex just starts to rub slowly at the spot. "Bitch," he says under his breath but purposely loud enough for everyone to hear.

Before she can react, Finnick steps up. "Enobaria, what are you doing here? I doubt it was to fight with your previous students."

My old mentor just sends him a vicious smile, "Actually Odair, I am here to fight them."

Finnick raises an eyebrow but I think he's beginning to understand what her intentions are.

Because I already have.

So I'm not surprised when she turns to me, sending that vicious smile my way. "More specifically, my star student. She better have improved from last time otherwise I'm kicking her ass again."


	18. Chapter 18

"She better have improved from last time. Otherwise I'm kicking her ass again."

After saying these words, my old mentor is suddenly aiming a high kick at me.

I dodge it, jumping backwards a little. I had expected it. I had even had time to double check my surroundings and calculate different routes so I wouldn't run into anyone.

As if answering my last thoughts, a voice sounds in the room. "Everyone clear the mats. Give them space."

I feel my options opening up as everyone but Enobaria and I follow Jackson's orders.

"Rules," I ask while dodging a punch.

"The rules are there are no rules," Enobaria replies, aiming a kick I dodge.

I almost smile. I shouldn't have bothered asking.

Enobaria aims another punch and misses.

I remind myself not to be too confident, to feel too secure, but I notice that it is easy for me to dodge Enobaria's hits. It seems my training really has brought me back into shape. I'm not going to be the one that gets her ass kicked again.

Part of me wants to smile, but I resist the temptation. I haven't won. I can't celebrate.

Suddenly, I find Enobaria almost landing a kick on my stomach and I find myself unprepared for it. I barely have the time to bring my hands up to stop the blow from directly touching my body. I avoid the pain of her kick but not the force of it and find myself thrown back off balance.

My back hits the ground, the wind gets knocked out of me, and I am staring at the ceiling.

Stupid, I chide myself. I had been too focused on focusing my own thoughts that I hadn't paid enough attention to her thoughts. If I had been more attentive, I would have realized she was going to feint one of her actions and then do something like that. Had I been more on guard, I could have easily avoided that last blow.

Nothing is certain.

A mistake like that in the Arena could have cost me my life.

I look up to see Enobaria getting back on her feet. Knowing I was going to lose my balance anyway, I had made sure to throw her off balance too when I had her foot in my grasp. My falling was at her expense too.

Enobaria approaches me quickly.

Still on the ground, I react, sweeping my leg across the floor and trying to knock her legs out from under her.

Enobaria jumps back, avoiding my move. "Nice try," she says before aiming a kick at my face.

My arms go up and stop the kick. Her ankle is now trapped between my crossed wrists. I grab her shoe with my hands then twist my body to the left.

She knows the move. After all, she's the one that taught me it.

She's forced to do a twist in the air. If she hadn't followed my movement, her ankle would have sprained or broke.

The moment she hits the ground, I am up on my feet. She follows fast.

Then we both start fighting. For real. This time I'm not just on the defensive. I'm aiming punches and kicks too. I'm trying to land a blow, trying to hurt her so I can win. Everytime Enobaria manages to block one of my moves and everytime I manage to land an attack, I find myself thinking of my next move, looking for an advantage and calculating my options.

It should be easy for me to win. I've trained for the past few weeks while Enobaria hasn't since preparing for the Quarter Quell. My stamina and strength are better than hers for sure.

But my old mentor is vicious. She doesn't give up and she also fights dirty.

She might have more bruises from this match but I've got a few bite marks. And those canines of hers are _sharp_.

I mean, they're made of metal.

At one point, I almost have Enobaria in a headlock but I see her move to use those canines and end up releasing her so I can put distance between us. I know Enobaria is willing to tear off a chunk of my flesh even if this is a practice battle.

Enobaria and I stare at each other.

Her stamina is running out.

I am feeling fine. She's landed a few blows and they'll hurt later but right now, my stamina is doing pretty well.

I'm not the only one that notices this.

I see a look flash in Enobaria's eyes and recognize her thoughts just as she has them.

So I'm not that unprepared when she turns away from me and runs.

Straight to the weapons rack.

She grabs an axe and throws it in my direction.

I dodge it with ease. She's tired and her throw is off.

Behind me, I hear people move around. I had almost forgot about our audience. It sounds like they are fine and I even hear a soldier speak with concern for me, "Isn't this too much?"

_"The rule is there are no rules."_ I'm sure Alex and Aidan are thinking the same thing as me in retort. Enobaria won't spare a breath to explain to him one of the lessons we were taught at the Academy. She's too focused on throwing weapons at me.

I find myself dodging another ax, a spear, and then again another ax.

The weapons station she is at is now empty and she is about to move onto the next one when she notices what has caught my attention.

My eyes had flickered to the knives station. It is somewhat in the center of the room, maybe a little closer to Enobaria, but I know I can make it there faster.

We glance at each other one more time before we're both off.

Enobaria knows once I get my hands on those knives it will be game over, so she doesn't move to the next weapons rack and she doesn't expect to beat me to the knives and use them herself. Instead, the moment I am in reach of the knives, I found myself being tackled to the ground. We roll around, fighting for dominance.

I am just about to get it when we have both crashed into another rack of weapons. Bo staffs fall on and around us. They haven't even stopped their clattering on the ground when Enobaria and I have both grabbed one each and are getting back on our feet again.

The thing is, I've been training for weeks with the bo staff. And the moment I've gotten a proper grip on the metal weapon, I know what move to use and I can feel winning this match is within reach.

I'm not being cocky. I'm just prepared. I've trained for a moment like this—where I can have the upper hand and am ready to use it.

By the time I've gotten in position, my feet secure on the ground and my hands wielding the staff tightly, Enobaria has barely gotten up. Just as she stumbles up to stand, I strike.

With as much force as I can muster, I swing the staff under her, sweeping her off her feet.

Enobaria's back hits the ground as I twirl the staff once then aim the end of it at her throat.

My mentor is breathing hard but otherwise, the room is silent. She and I stare back each other, emotionlessly.

I don't look away even when the clapping and cheering starts.

"You could have grabbed the knives or the staff the moment the match started, then it would have been over quicker," Enobaria tells me.

"I know," I reply.

"You also could have gone for the offensive sooner."

"That's the type of advice that got Cato killed."

I know that's not true. Cato's death was not Enobaria's fault, nor was it even his own. But part of me has always been upset with her since he died.

Enobaria isn't fazed by my response. Hurt does not flash at all through her eyes, which makes me feel a little better. The moment the words were out of my mouth I sort of regretted them. She knows this too, I hope.

I'm debating if I should apologize when my mentor speaks. She is smirking up at me now. "You won. I yield."

That's all I need to hear before I'm removing the staff from her throat and turning away from her.

Most of the soldiers are all still chattering; they hadn't been paying attention to our exchange.

Alex stares at me and Aidan looks like he might walk towards me. I purposefully ignore making eye contact with them and busy myself with putting the staffs back on the shelf. I'm relieved when they have to turn to a conversation with Enobaria and Coin.

I feel myself trying to close off. I want to be as dispassionate as I appear on the outside. I want the numbness to reach the core of me, to take away the thoughts I don't want to confront.

I may have won the match and it was empowering at the moment, but now, I don't feel great at all. It's as if I've actually lost something instead.

As I reach up to put the last staff on the shelf, I make the mistake of looking up at the feeling of eyes on me.

Gale and I stare back at each other wordlessly, both our expressions not revealing anything.


	19. Chapter 19

I am walking in the cafeteria. I'm almost at the table when a guy bumps into my shoulder as he passes.

With the amount of force behind the action, I can tell he did it on purpose. I put a hand up to my shoulder and rub it, irritated, but I don't look at the person.

I continue my walk to Alex and Aidan who are now looking in my direction.

"Watch it," the person who had bumped into me says gruffly.

I close my eyes. I'm really not in the mood for this. I didn't even get breakfast.

Just as I'm about to take a step away, the guy stops me again by grabbing my shoulder to pull me back.

Before I can think of a way to react without starting a fight, his hand is off me. Alex and Aidan are suddenly by my side. Alex holds the man's wrist in a stern grip.

The guy wrenches his hand away, as if he has been burned, and steps backwards away from us. It's almost like he had been poking a bear cub with a stick cautiously before realizing his mistake when the bear cub not only wakes up but it's parents also come. His stance screams defensive and scared.

The thing is, Alex is not some temperamental animal. To the man's luck, he has restraint. I can tell Alex is displeased with the man but he still held back his strength when he grabbed the guy's wrist.

"She bumped into me," the man gets out. I'm almost impressed that he's not stuttering from the nervousness in his tone. "I wanted an apology."

A few of his friends join him, flanking his back.

That's when I start to get a little worried.

The thing is, the man and his four friends outnumber us and are older than us. By my guess, they are in their late thirties.

Aidan, Alex, And I are just teens.

Yet the look in the four men's eyes show a different situation. There's anger, apprehension, and arrogance but more visibly, there's fear.

My eyes look to our left and right and notice that the people sitting in the cafeteria and watching the scene have the same look.

I make the mistake of making eye contact with a woman, old enough to be my mother, and feel my heart stop for a second. There's so much accusation in her eyes. You're a murderer. You're all monsters, they scream.

My heart drops slowly to my stomach, heavy with guilt.

"Al—" I start to speak, but Alex's unforgiving tone sounds through the now silent dining hall.

"Aren't you too old to be starting fights?"

The man's anger seems to rise with Alex's tone. He clicks his tongue and glares. When I see his neck and ears flush red, I realize that he is not just mad, but also embarrassed. He wishes that Alex would show some fear or at least some aggression.

He just doesn't know that this side of Alex is a front. Alex can seem blasé even when angry, but I know he is not actually calm right now. His back is straight and he stands at his full height. To others it might seem casual and normal, but I know that the truly casual version of my friend holds himself in a lazy demeanor. Nothing about Alex is normal right now. He's actually really annoyed.

"She started it," the man says.

"Alex," I say again.

"That's bull."

"Alex," I finally get his attention and he turns to me. His green eyes are sharper than usual.

I shake my head, as if saying stop.

He has just enough time to furrow his eyebrows slightly when the man rushes forward, taking the opportunity of Alex's turned back to get in a hit.

I move forward too, swiftly putting myself between the two. Just as the man's right arm reaches up to pull back for a punch, I have already placed myself in front of him. My back faces him and my arms are suddenly a cage around his one right arm, perfectly placed in a way we were taught at the Academy to immobilize our opponents. This position is only possible if the assailant is slow and not very strong. If he moves, I can easily just break his arm. My left hand holds his right fist.

"Just stop," I say. "Please."

Alex would have easily stopped him had I not intervened, but he also might have "casually" hurt him too.

I release the guy's arm and when I do, the man backs away from me to the safety of his friends. His initial surprise is gone by the time I turn back to face him and his glare is directed at me again.

This makes Aidan and Alex even more tense and I almost sigh in relief when I hear a guard's authoritative voice.

"Is everything all right here?"

I almost glare at the guard because it's Jet. It took him long enough, I think, wanting desperately to get out of this situation and away from all the heated looks.

The man who bumped into me speaks up first.

"This girl here knocked into my shoulder and I guess they don't teach manners in District Two because she didn't apologize."

"He's lying," Aidan says, speaking for the first time. He had been leaving the situation up to Alex and I, just backing us up silently, and now he decided it was his time to take action. His tone is calm and honest. There seems to be no heat or anger behind his words.

That's Aidan, he doesn't like being mad or expressing any feeling close to it. Right now, it's helpful in attempting to make us seem unabrasive.

"Ask everyone around us," one of the man's friends says confidently. "They'll tell you what happened."

I feel my gaze sharpen at him in acknowledgement. It's the only smart move this group has made so far.

But then Jet speaks and his words surprise all of us. "I have eyes too, so I suggest you guys go back to your breakfast before I report this to President Coin. Three offenses and you're out of Thirteen."

I just stare owlishly at Jet. He's been nothing but friendly to me and I thought that was just part of his personality. It seems he can be rather scary when he wants to be though.

"Che," the guy who started this whole standoff says once his shock wears off. "Whatever."

The men walk off, shooting us looks over their shoulders, but my attention is mostly on Jet who turns to me with an easy smile.

Normally I'd feel cautious of such a 180 degree turn in mood, especially when the niceness is directed towards me. Instead I find myself saying, "Um, thanks."

I still wasn't over my surprise at his helping us.

"No problem," he says. "If anything, they should be the ones thanking me. They didn't stand a chance against you guys."

"Um yeah," I get out. I slowly turn to Alex and Aidan, my eyes still locked with Jet's.

"Let's go," I say quietly before turning away from my sparring partner and focusing on the exit of the cafeteria.

When we're out of the room and away from any people, Alex stops walking, causing Aidan and I to stop too. He surprises us by punching the wall hard.

"Those damn geezers," he says. "So stupid."

I freeze. His tone is deadly calm as it usually is when he's angry, but his actions are uncharacteristic of him.

Alex feels, but he never shows it. His actions right now are more characteristic of one of our best friends, the guy with blue eyes and a hotheaded personality.

"Yeah, it's a good thing that it was us they approached," I said, thinking about how the man knew exactly which district I was from, which meant he knew exactly who I was. It was rather idiotic on his part, but also fortunate to him in the end.

Aidan and Alex look slightly confused by my statement so I clarify.

"If it had been any of the other people from our district that they picked a fight with, they would have been beaten up."

"As they should have been," Alex states.

"Alex, no," I say, shaking my head.

"Isabelle, how are you not pissed at them? Aren't you at least a little upset about how that guy acted? Or how those people just stared and agreed with them when it was obviously—"

"Of course I'm mad," I say, cutting of Alex's chiding tone.

"Then why are you standing up for them," Alex says seriously.

"Because they're right!" I shout, surprising Alex, Aidan, and even myself. "Because they're right," I repeat, more quietly this time.

"I'm not talking about those guys at all. They were wrong and careless and annoying," I explain. "But…"

I think about the stares I got in the cafeteria and my heart starts to sink again.

"But the looks I got in there weren't unmerited. I deserve those looks."

"Isabelle," Alex says. "That's completely unfair."

My eyes are shut tight as I shake my head and when I finally open them, I look both of my friends in the eye. "The things I did in the Arena were horrible."

My words are followed by complete silence and I know I have stunned Alex and Aidan with just that sentence. We've never had this talk.

_I've_ never had this talk with anyone. Not even Cato.

Careers are supposed to be proud when they win the Games. District Two Victors never talk about the hard parts of their victory. It's taboo to feel anything but glory over surviving the Arena.

I had been honest when I told Gale that I didn't regret killing the other tributes for what they did to Blake. I had never felt pride over my actions in the Arena though.

Instead, I felt terribly guilty. I had been so angry after Blake was killed that I had given into the blood thirst. Me, who prided myself on being emotionless or at least in control of my feelings, had given into my emotions and thoughts and they were awful.

Alex breaks the silence first.

"You did it to defend yourself," he states. "It's kill or be killed. You know that."

"Yeah, I do. But you saw my Games. You saw the way I did it. Both of you know I could have ended things more cleanly. I didn't have to be so unnecessarily cruel."

"You wouldn't have been able to kill Hadrian cleanly. He was too strong for you," Alex says bluntly. "The only person in that Arena who had a chance of that was Blake."

"I didn't just stab him in the heart, Alex. I _ripped _it _out _of his chest."

"He would have made your death much worse. Don't pity him."

"I don't! But that doesn't mean I don't feel awful every time I think about the Games. It doesn't mean that I don't deserve the looks I get. They're terrified of me, as they should be, after what I did."

I pause and look up at Alex and Aidan. I'm not crying but by their expressions, I know this is the most vulnerable that I have been in front of them in a very long time. Alex isn't apathetic right now or serious; his eyes are tight with pity. Aidan stares at me with wide eyes.

I only make them wider with my next words.

"Blake should have won, not me."

My eyes go to the ground. I can't bear to look at Aidan. He was the closest to Blake out of the three of us. While Alex and Cato were always teaming up, Aidan and Blake were also working together.

"It's my fault," I tell them seriously. "If I hadn't been there, if he hadn't had to worry about me, then he might have done things differently and he would have won. He definitely would have won. I'm so sorry, Aidan. He was your best friend and I'm so, so sorr—"

My words are cut off when arms circle around me and I am pulled to a chest. I freeze, the tears that were close to making an appearance stalled by my surprise.

"You never told us," Aidan says into my hair. "You've never told us this much."

How is that all he can say? How can he not be mad at me? Now was his chance. To be mad at me, yell at me, blame me for once. I'm about to say all of this when he speaks again.

"Isabelle, I've never blamed you for Blake's death. Because it wasn't your fault. And I'm so sorry that you've thought that all these years." He puts his hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eyes earnestly. "I am Blake's best friend so I know he wouldn't blame you either or want you to feel this way for being alive. He cared about you."

A hand touches my head and I turn my head to look at Alex. "I'm not going to apologize for snapping earlier because you've finally shared some of your thoughts." He pats my head gently. "It's not your fault and I know nothing that we say will actually take away your guilt, but know that we've always backed you up."

I stare at my friends, unable to speak. Even with their forgiveness, I can't truly shake my guilt or come close to forgiving myself. Alex's last words though remind me of someone and ignite something within me.

_"Alphas to the end," he said. Nothing in the Arena was certain. It was survival of the fittest. Alliances could be betrayed. Being from the same district meant nothing. There should be no hard feelings and no real trust.._

_But the words he spoke were sacred to him. To all of us._

For years, I had blamed myself and now, I still didn't think I was deserving of not feeling guilty or ashamed of my actions. But I was also starting to wonder, that maybe with the help of others, I really could start learning to or at least trying to forgive myself.

I was scared and uncertain of the future. It would be hard, especially with all the people in Thirteen looking at me and bringing me back to my original doubts.

But I had Aidan and Alex there for me and with them, there were many things I believed myself capable of doing.

Was it possible that someone like me could be deserving of forgiveness? After all I've done?

"Alex is a hypocrite," Aidan says in a singsong voice, bringing me from my internal thoughts.

Alex looks annoyed with Aidan's childish attitude. I realize that the seriousness has left the conversation and they are attempting to revert back to our usual pace.

"He never tell us any of his thoughts," Aidan says, grinning at me.

"And you tell us too many of yours," Alex retorts. "Always saying unnecessary stuff."

Aidan just laughs. I feel myself at ease with the normalcy of their interaction and suddenly, Aidan stops laughing, fixes on me with a big smile, and points at my face. "There it is," he says, and I am startled feel a small smile on my lips. It disappears with my realization. Aidan's happiness has always been contagious.

Alex doesn't say anything but he also doesn't look annoyed anymore. He just calmly stares at where my smile had been and I can tell he was content too.

"Silly Isabelle," Aidan says, poking my face near my mouth. It's as if he's trying to draw out the smile again by doing so. "Always worrying too much."


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey. I've read the past reviews and considered any suggestions I was given. Thank you for them! They are helpful for me. So please keep critiquing and telling me your thoughts, so I know how to become a better writer. I have a good idea about major plot points of this story but I would also like to know how I could make it more interesting/entertaining for you guys. Basically, I'm grateful for feedback.**

"So I heard that you had some trouble at breakfast today," Gale says.

I'm about fifteen feet away from the target so if I release the knife with this much force, it should hit where I want it to. "It was troublesome, not trouble."

Gale just snorts at my response. "Of course," he comments. "But are you okay?"

I do exactly what I planned and the knife hits the center perfectly. I turn away from my target practice to look at Gale. I had been so focused on my training that I had just said what came to mind first. I hadn't done that for a while; spoken without thinking carefully about my words. It looks like Gale doesn't mind though and now there is genuine concern in his grey eyes.

"Yeah," I respond, turning back to my practice. _ Thanks_, I want to finish with. I can't seem to get that word out though. When did it become so hard for me to be a decent human being? "Who did you hear about it from," I ask instead.

"Jet," Gale responds. "Well, not directly from him. The reason why I wasn't at breakfast in the first place was because Katniss, Finnick, Haymitch, and I were having a meeting with Coin. Then he came into her office, reporting the incident to her."

The moment the knife leaves my left hand, I know it will not hit where I want it to. I had flicked my wrist incorrectly during its release.

The knife hits the target but rather than the center, a little to the right and above it.

Gale acknowledges my mistake. He stares silently at the target before his eyes turn back to me, cautious and a little worried.

I know what he is thinking. That I was startled by his mentioning Katniss. While talking about his cousin is a conversation I don't want to have, I was actually more surprised by something else he said.

I didn't think Jet would tell Coin. I always thought he became a guard because of his friendship with Finnick. I wondered how loyal he was to Coin. Did he become my partner because of her? This morning, when he had taken so long to intervene, had he actually done it on purpose?

I push my questions to the back of my mind and focus on the present situation where I am standing in front of an analytical Gale Hawthorne who is awaiting my next move.

I act like I don't notice his eyes watching me carefully and continue my knife throwing, but this time with my right hand. With my dominant hand, my technique and aim is close to flawless. The knives I throw start to form a 'X' on the target. They're spaced out so well that it could make my first mistake look intentional.

"You're really good at that," is all Gale says, observing. If he's still thinking about how I reacted, which he definitely is, he's not showing it in his tone.

"Who do you think taught Clove?"

Just as I release the last knife, I hear those words and turn with Gale to look at Aidan, who spoke.

Aidan and Alex have started training with us since the day I beat Enobaria. That was why they showed up with my mentor in the first place.

Sometimes, Aidan helps the others training and makes jokes, which they can't help but find funny. But apart from that, Aidan and Alex train only with each other. Alex entirely ignores the soldiers.

I haven't seen Aidan and Gale interact before and just as I expected, Gale is not like the other soldiers who have started to warm up to Aidan because of his jokes. Gale stands stoically and I know he is cautious of my friend. From the past few weeks of training, I've learned that Gale is the type of person who is always observing and analyzing his surroundings, and even though he doesn't often voice his opinion, a strong one at that, he is rather stubborn or tenacious with his beliefs. He is too careful of a guy to immediately trust someone from District Two, regardless of the person's personality.

Aidan just stares back at Gale with an unaffected, easygoing grin. I'd find the situation hard to watch if I wasn't cautious too. To others, Aidan might seem like a friendly person when in reality he is that as well as mischievous in the sense that he is extremely dedicated to having fun. When Aidan turns to me, I just wait for him to say what he has planned.

"Let's battle. Two on two. Alex and I versus you and a partner of your choice."

I look at Alex who has stopped his archery practice and it appears that this is the first time he has heard of this. He doesn't look excited.

Recognizing Alex's lack of enthusiasm, Aidan just smiles at Alex. "Come on, it'll be fun. We haven't all trained together for a while."

Alex stares back bored before responding, "Fine. Anything is better than this." He turns to me with a smirk, "Who are you going to choose? Hawthorne there?"

"Nope," I respond almost immediately. Because I know that Alex and Aidan would take full advantage of this to give Gale, the cousin of the Mockingjay, a hard time, I don't want to choose Gale. He's strong enough but it would be unfair and unreasonable to expect him to hold his own against two guys like Aidan and Alex. In the past, I've lost many times to Aidan and Alex individually. I can't really take them either of them on my own.

I figure I might entertain Aidan's idea though and try to make this interesting.

My eyes scan the room and stop when they land on the person I want as my partner. "Jet," I say.

Since people in the room had started focusing on our conversation, I don't need to call Jet over or explain the situation to him. He just walks over. "Really," he asks.

Aside from my new suspicions, he's a pretty neutral guy. There won't be any bad blood in this match. He's also a good fighter and familiar with Career training.

"Because we've been sparring together since the beginning," I add as an explanation.

My eyes flicker to Gale as I say this who smirks at me, "I was starting to think you didn't like me or something."

"Never," I say dryly, smirking lightly in return.

"Okay," Aidan says, causing me to turn away from Gale. Aidan often acts like a little kid who is delighted by almost anything, but I can see the genuine excitement in his eyes right now. "Rules?"

"Nope," I say.

"Of course not," Alex deadpans. "When does the match end?"

"I heard you guys do First Blood back in District Two," Jet comments.

"First Blood it is then," Aidan replies with a smirk.

"Sounds interesting," Jet responds and I can tell that he is also anticipating this match.

"First Blood?"

"It means that a person is beaten once they are injured in a way that blood is drawn," I explain to whoever asked.

"Isn't that too intense for a practice match," some guy asks. He's smart and capable. He wouldn't be allowed in this training time otherwise because he is also young, around my age, as well as inexperienced.

"You're a soldier. You should know there's more dangerous things," another guy tells him.

My eyes are on Aidan and Alex. There definitely were more dangerous ways to have a practice match. When the instructor called the match or when the winner got to decide when it ended were examples. I had seen some kids beg for mercy while bleeding profusely and a match still not be called. Killing another trainee intentionally was against the rules of the Academy but there were some students who took pleasure out of testing the limits of their opponents and walked dangerously close to breaking that rule.

First Blood is still a pretty dangerous match type though. If the objective is to make your opponent bleed, then that limits your ways of winning and the match becomes pretty brutal. Back in Two, injuries ranged from a busted nose to almost fatal wounds. Some kids at the Academy, especially ones from the Specials Program, were especially creative and fanatic about how they wanted to draw first blood and end the match. I suspect that the young soldier is thinking about all of this by his expression. He didn't care for his superior's comment but seems to be lost in thought.

I look around the room and note the soldiers who hold the same serious expression. There aren't that many in comparison to the number of people in the room. I'm not surprised to find Gale and that guy Axel Turner also thinking about it.

"This is going to be interesting," I hear someone comment as people start clearing the matts for the match. "These kids are all from the Career districts."

"Isabelle."

I turn to Gale who has said my name. He is still standing next to me, deep in thought.

He then looks up at me. "Be careful in this match."

I don't have to worry too much about Aidan and Alex. I want to tell him that out of all the students from the Academy and District Two, they were the least likely to hurt me. Not because they weren't capable of beating me to a pulp, but because they are somehow the ones that I always trusted the most, even more than Blake or even Cato. I don't tell him this though. "I'm starting to think you're worried about me," I say instead.

Gale takes a millisecond longer than I expect to process my sarcastic retort. I almost quirk an eyebrow in confusion but then his serious expression is suddenly gone and replaced by a grin. He shakes his head. "Never," he says, his grey eyes showing humor.

"Isabelle, let's start already!" Aidan jumps up and down.

I notice Alex starting to get annoyed with Aidan's rambunctiousness and decide I should hurry before he chooses to hurt his own teammate.

"Any game plan," I ask Jet as I take my spot on the matted floor.

We stand about seven feet apart and our opponents are across the room, at least twenty feet or so. They are both crouched over as if ready to run. I realize that this really will be a serious, fast-paced match. They're determined to cross the distance and get first blood.

"Nah," he says, assuming the same position as Aidan and Alex. "I don't think it'll really make a difference."

I look at him, unable to hide my surprise, and he just smiles softly at me before facing forward again.

Like me, he doesn't think we'll win either.

I'm about to question why he agreed to this then but realize I already know the answer. It's reinforced by his expression as he looks on at our opponents. He's just curious what it would be like to fight them.

_"First Blood it is then," Aidan replies with a smirk._

_"Sounds interesting," Jet responds._

I can't help but laugh. I thought only the boys from my District were crazy.

Shaking my head and turning to face Aidan and Alex, I see that they have faltered slightly. The intensity they were strongly emanating as they prepared for this match now wavers. Aidan is standing rather than crouching and even Alex can't hide his surprise as he looks at me.

I ignore their expressions as well as Jet's eyes on me and instead, get into a crouching position. The smile on my lips disappearing slowly as I mentally prepare myself for this match.

As if snapping out of a trance, Aidan and Alex resume their stances.

"Match, start!"

We're all off when the match is started. It's similar to the beginning of the Games, it's hasty and everyone has their own agendas.

Jet reaches our opponents first and doesn't hesitate when he barrels into Aidan, tackling him to the ground. They tumble further away from me.

Because Aidan was originally planning to go up against me, he had been closer than Alex to reaching me. Jet's move is smart. He has not just given me more time to do what I have planned but has also evened out the playing field a little more.

Alex is a dangerous opponent because he is incredibly intelligent, observant, and apathetic. These strengths do not make him the bigger threat though in hand-to-hand. I'll still have a hard time but Aidan's strength can overpower me in seconds. If this were the Games, I'd have to worry about Alex's lethal archery skills. But this is not the Arena and he's not going to risk shooting me somewhere vital just to win this match.

I however am not above using weapons as it is the only way I can hold my own in this match.

My hands grip a bo staff, my classic choice for a weapon these days, just as Alex is about to reach me. I turn and swing it at him. He dodges to the left, avoiding a hit.

Without hesitation, I take another swing and he has to move back to dodge it, putting space between us.

Alex easily dodges my attacks. It's probably because they are not real. I'm swinging the staff but not putting much force into it. My only intention is to delay Alex and stay in the match so he won't be able to gang up on Jet with Aidan. I won't be able to knock Alex out of this battle with a small flesh wound; I'm not strong enough to be that careful. I also don't want to hurt him.

I chose the bo staff because it ensures that there is distance between us so he can't hurt me either.

I know Alex realizes what I am doing when he doesn't dodge one of my moves and grabs the staff with both of his hands.

I prepared for this. He had been too busy avoiding my moves and thinking about my intentions to realize where we were. I had directed our fight right in front of the knives table. Keeping my left hand on the staff, I use the right to quickly grab a knife from the table. I then release my hold on the staff and take a swing at him with the knife.

Alex has enough time to dodge the knife. My moves are still slightly hesitant and slow. This works to my extreme disadvantage when Alex has enough time to grab my wrist tightly.

He pulls my body forward, spins me around, and has the knife near my neck before I can blink. My two hands are also behind my back, held tightly by the wrists in Alex's left hand.

I don't even question when the knife was actually taken from my hands. I've learned the move too. I've also learned how to get out of this hold if my opponent's hand on the weapon ever wavers.

I stomp my left heel into Alex's foot and then reel my head back and up to hit Alex in the jaw. That I am able to get out of his grip with this move confirms that Alex too is holding back in this fight and was not holding the knife close enough to my neck.

I hear Alex curse a little in pain and the sound of metal clattering to the ground as I try to move away. Unfortunately, Alex's left hand, which is actually his more dominant hand, still has a firm grip on my left wrist and I am only able to take a step before he takes hold of both of my wrists again.

Alex knocks my knees out from under me and I find myself lying flat on my stomach with my arms still behind me. Alex's knee presses into my back, holding me down.

I thrash around and Alex struggles to hold me down.

"Isabelle, give it up already." He says, annoyed. "I don't want to hurt you."

I completely ignore him, trying even harder to fight against his hold. His knee digs into my back painfully.

Alex just sighs. "Fine, let's just end this."

I am not surprised or angry when I see Alex reach for the knife lying on the ground near us. I know he was originally planning to subdue me but now that he knows I'm not going to quit, he's willing to cut me to end this match.

I try even harder to get out of his hold. It's futile though. I feel the cold metal of the knife hovering above my arm and it makes me freeze in anticipation.

"Sorry, Isabelle," he says, the metal almost touching my skin.

"Alex!"

Instead of cutting me, Alex rolls off of me at Aidan's warning. It's not because he decided not to use the knife on me but rather he was forced to move and avoid a spear that had been thrown at him.

When I look over at Aidan and Jet, they are standing a few feet away from each other, looking in our direction. It looks like Jet had gotten away from Aidan to throw a spear and Aidan had just enough time to warn Alex.

"That idiot can't do anything right," Alex mutters as he slowly prepares to get up.

"My bad," Aidan responds, laughing. Then shouts again, "Alex!"

Jet is suddenly running in our direction. "Let's switch dance partners," he says, before tackling Alex to the ground.

Alex just curses at the impact.

The knife, which he had accidentally let go of when Jet tackled him, lies a few feet to the side of me. I am about to get up and grab it when I am pushed back down.

I cough. A heavy weight sits on my back and breathing becomes hard.

"You have got to be kidding me," I manage to get out, annoyed.

I just hear Aidan's laugh from above me. I can see him grinning as he just casually sits on my back.

While Alex is taller and leaner, Aidan is stronger. It's easy for him to keep me in place.

I attempt to scratch him with my nails but he just swats my hand away before pushing my head down.

I can only lie there as he presses my face into the ground and laughs.

This goes on for maybe three more minutes before I hear Alex's voice.

"It's over, Isabelle," he says.

Aidan stops pressing my cheek into the ground and I am able to turn my head up to see Alex standing in front of us. I hadn't been able to see him and Jet battle due to Aidan's antics.

"Fine, I give," I say, knowing that Alex will just use the knife he's now holding if he has to. "Just get him off me."

Aidan stands up but not before ruffling my hair. The moment his body weight leaves my back, I am able to breathe normally. My god, he was heavy and I bet he wasn't even applying his full weight.

"It's all this muscle," Aidan says, knowing my thoughts. I don't doubt it but I can't help but roll my eyes, shaking my head and smiling. It sounds like something a certain cocky blue-eyed Alpha would have said and my reaction is reflex.

"Little good it did you during that match," Alex comments dryly.

"Sorry about that," Aidan says. Even though he is laughing, he is being genuine. "He was so fast though. It was really unexpected! He just ran away from me, picked up a spear, and threw it in your direction."

"He's from District Four. You know you're not supposed to let them get their hands on three things: spears, nets, and tridents. In that order."

"Yeah, he was really fast and accurate with it," Aidan compliments. "I was a little mesmerized by the throw."

"Aidan," Alex growls.

"Lighten up, Alexander. It was just a practice match."

I laugh in response and both boys look at me, their tension momentarily forgotten. "Yeah right, it's never just a practice match to you guys."

I realize I can't help but speak with admiration in my voice.

Just like me, they were holding back. But unlike me, they were prepared to treat a practice match like a real one and if Jet and I had showed any threat to their chances of victory, they wouldn't have been afraid to be as brutal as possible to win. At the end of the day, Aidan and Alex were true Alphas. They enjoying fighting and loved winning. I had seen the way their eyes lit up during this match. They were determined and excited.

I remember seeing Cato's eyes light up like that too.

"You guys are insane," Jet says. I turn to look at him for the first time since the match is over.

He sits on the ground, arms propping himself up. He has a few bruises here and there but the major injuries I notice are a red welt on his cheek and a cut across his bicep. He doesn't look upset, just tired, as he catches his breath.

My eyes go to Aidan and Alex. It looks like Jet got a few hits on them, but neither of them look tired at all right now.

Just like his previous words, there is no heat behind Jet's next comment, just respect and admiration. "Monsters."


	21. Chapter 21

It happens again.

I'm walking in the cafeteria and someone bumps into me on purpose. When I look over my shoulder, I meet the eyes of the same guy who knocked into my shoulder at breakfast yesterday.

It seems he put more force into it this time, knowing that I handled it fine last time. I think if he actually tried to use all his strength it would hurt but I'd still be okay. He's not very strong for his age.

I can't tell if he's brave or stupid for continuing to pick a fight with me after Jet's warning.

If Cato were here, he would have beaten the guy bloody, maybe even using his food tray as a weapon, and forced the man, when almost unconscious, to apologize to me.

But Cato is not here and I don't actually want that. I would be fine with just an apology or at least for them to leave me alone.

I regret not paying more attention to where I'm going when I almost run into another person.

"Sorry," I immediately say.

"No, I'm sorr—" the girl starts to say but then the words seem to get caught in her throat and the smile she has disappears when she turns to face me. She also hadn't been watching her surroundings so it seems it's both of our faults. I thought since we barely touched, avoiding a real collision, I'd be able to apologize politely and walk away. But the look on her face makes me realize otherwise. She's standing in front of me, eyes wide with fear.

The group of friends she had been walking and laughing with seems to notice her absence and turn to face us. They also freeze when they see me and I feel my stomach drop when I make eye contact with three familiar people—Eli, Thom, and Talia.

Thom doesn't hesitate in walking up to me, putting distance between his friend and I. I gladly give it to him, stepping back.

He looks at me with narrowed eyes and over his shoulder, I see Talia glaring at me too. She goes back and forth between this and whispering soothing words to her friend.

Talia is so focused on hating me that she's not actually paying attention to her friend, who looks like she wants to say something but can't. Her friend, the girl I almost bumped into, looks back at me and before I can read the look in her eyes, Thom is blocking her from my view.

"What did you do to her," he asks.

I hesitate with my answer because I feel like no matter how I answer he'll take it the wrong way. There's already so much accusation in his voice.

At a loss for what to do, I glance at Alex and Aidan who are sitting at our usual table. They're watching me intently. It looks like Aidan wanted to get up, but luckily, Alex stopped him.

I guess it was a mistake for me to even look at my friends because Thom seems to get angrier when he notices. He opens his mouth, about to say something.

"What's going on?"

I turn at the voice. Gale approaches us, grey eyes cautious.

"Gale," Thom acknowledges. I forgot that they are friends and all of them are probably from the same district. "Valentine here, did something to Lila and won't tell us what."

Gale doesn't walk up to check on the girl or stand with Thom like I worry he will. He doesn't even walk to stand in the center of our conversation, between Thom and I neutrally.

Instead, he stops right next to me. He crosses his arms and faces his friend.

I scrunch my forehead in confusion and look to Thom, but he doesn't seem to recognize the meaning behind Gale's position.

Maybe I'm the one reading it wrong, I think, but then Gale turns to me and asks, "What happened?"

There is no accusation in his voice, none at all.

The explanation flows easily this time. "I wasn't looking where I was going and I accidentally bumped into her," I say, looking at the girl who stares back at me.

Gale nods. His expression hasn't changed; he remains stoic. He doesn't look like he blames me already, but I'm a little worried by his posture. He's tense, as if holding back something. I notice this as he turns to look at the girl. Even though his voice softens slightly with her, his posture is the same.

"Lila?"

Lila looks up at Gale, her eyes wide and innocent. I get the vibe that she is a generally shy, easily nervous person. I notice her nervousness and discomfort when all eyes turn to her, waiting for a response. "It's true, it was an accident," Lila says, her voice soft. "I wasn't looking too."

"You don't have to lie for her, Lila," Thom says. I notice the way his voice softens when he speaks to her too. It's different though; when Gale had spoken, it had been somewhat methodical.

Lila shakes her head. "It was my fault too, Thom." She looks at me and there is less fear in her eyes then before, but it's still sort of there. "I'm sorry, I should have spoken up earlier. I was just startled."

I shake my head. "No worries."

I don't miss the way Thom glares at me for not softening my voice too when speaking to her. My words were genuine and that's all that should matter.

"I should have been paying attention to where I was going in the first place," I say in a softer tone this time and not because I'm trying to please Thom but because I do feel bad already that she's scared of me.

"Just keep that in mind for the future," Thom warns quietly.

I feel annoyance flare up but hold it back, knowing that anything I say will only cause more trouble for me.

"Would you stop antagonizing her," Gale says, surprising all of us.

And that's when I understand why Gale has been so tense.

I had been right. He wasn't relaxed. He was annoyed and not with me, but with his friend whom he is looking at displeased. I'm still processing it all but I now recognize what has somehow unfolded in front of me. Gale Hawthorne is angry _for_ _me_, Isabelle Valentine.

When Thom is too startled to respond, Gale keeps talking, "She didn't even do anything, Thom, and you keep glaring daggers at her and trying to pick a fight. She could probably kick your ass but she hasn't. Leave her alone."

Right now, Gale's anger is like the calm before the storm. His tone is leveled but clearly unhappy. I see the muscles in his shoulders are tense, coiled with emotions.

And because I know what happens when those emotions boil over too much and because I don't want to see Gale like that, I do something very uncharacteristic of me.

I place my hand on Gale's shoulder.

I guess a part of me just doesn't like seeing him angry.

My touch is light but it does the trick. Gale freezes, I think in surprise at my contact, and then the tension is his muscles relax before he turns his head to look at me.

A bigger part of me doesn't want to see what happens when the storms hit.

Anger is a powerful emotion. It could make people irrational. It had helped me win the Games and get revenge for Blake. But it also had caused me to ruthlessly slaughter the other tributes in my Games.

Anger, pure anger, on someone like Gale would be deadly. I wasn't scared of seeing it, but rather, I was worried. Only a little anger or sternness in them was okay because that was the way I was used to seeing them. Gale's grey eyes were often the definition of stormy and passionate. I used to think he got that way because I was in the room, but I learned otherwise. Gale hated the Capitol as much as I did and we were in a place and situation where his hatred and anger were constantly being fueled. If I could help it, I wanted him to not give into such ugly emotions.

Gale's grey eyes are still hard as he looks at me but they aren't angry. I see the question in them and I just shake my head in response. No, I tell him silently, it's fine now, so let's stop.

"Let's go, Thom," Lila says gently. "We're all just tense here, in this place. I think you guys just need a little space right now."

Her eyes are on me as she finishes speaking, unlike her two friends who just stare at Gale.

"Yeah..." Thom says, unable to look away from his friend. He looks less angry now and more cautious or even suspicious.

My hand is still on Gale's shoulder and Gale is still watching me, not meeting Thom's eyes.

"Thom," Lila says again.

Hearing the plead in her voice, Thom snaps out of his thoughts and turns to her. He shoots one last glance at Gale and even me, before nodding his head. "Okay," he says. "Let's go."

I take my hand off Gale's shoulder and motion with my head for us to leave too. Gale stares at me for a little longer. His eyes had followed my hand as it fell of his shoulder and then went up to my face again, directly meeting my eyes. Then, without a word, he complies, walking in the direction of the exit.

I had planned to follow him out, but Gale's left hand which had been next to my right hand, closes around it anyway.

I am too startled to think that he just pulls me gently along.

Luckily, I'm always on guard because when a shoulder bumps purposefully into mine, I'm not knocked off my feet like someone else could have been. But I can't stop the action from going unnoticed by Gale, who had felt my slight stumble through our linked hands.

I don't look back. I had already saw who had done it. It is one of the friends of that man who started the annoying habit in the first place.

But Gale's eyes narrow on the guy who I assume is walking away and before I know it, his hand releases mine and he is walking past me towards the guy. "Hey," he calls out calmly.

When Gale puts his right hand on the guy's shoulder, the guy looks back annoyed at whoever stopped him. But then he realizes whom he is talking to.

I guess he never expected to catch the attention of Gale Hawthorne, model rebel solider and cousin to the Mockingjay. The shock is visible on his face.

"Apologize," Gale says.

That surprised the guy even more. "What?"

"Apologize," Gale repeats, nodding his head once in my direction.

When the guy's eyes meet my neutral expression, his anger flares up again. "Why would I do that? I didn't do anything wrong and even if I did, someone like her deserves it."

The guy really chose the wrong time to talk back. Gale is still angry from confronting Thom.

I think the guy begins to realize his mistake too because his eyes flicker over Gale's posture. I see the tension in Gale's muscles as his restraining himself. The guy sees it as strength and a threat to his safety.

Gale's tone when he speaks doesn't seem to help the man's fear. "You bumped into her, on purpose. Now, if you don't care about common manners saying you shouldn't bully women or you're not worried about all these people here as witnesses to your actions, then I guess I should mention that Valentine here is a soldier of the Rebellion, handpicked by Coin herself. Did you know that?"

"No," the guy stutters. He really does look surprised by that piece of information.

"Do you admit that you did something wrong?"

"Yes."

"Do you regret it?"

"Yes." He is being honest.

"Apologize to her."

"I'm sorry," he says, looking at me.

Gale nods, satisfied, before turning away from the man. He grabs my hand and starts walking towards the exit again.

We only had taken a few steps when I speak up. "Gale," I say.

"Yes," he responds. We don't stop walking. I didn't plan on it. I just wanted to make sure he'd hear me.

"Thank you."

Gale looks back at me. Grey eyes meet blue.

The shoulder bumping had been annoying and I couldn't do anything, knowing my position and place in the eyes of the rebels. I know that the only other people who could have had that affect on the guy were Katniss Everdeen or Coin herself. The guy was too unintelligent to respect or fear anyone else.

"No problem, Valentine." There is tenderness in the way he says my last name now. We don't address each other with disdain anymore. "I got your back."


End file.
